(lass. 
Book. 



^ 4 



THE 



LIFE AND CHARACTER 



OF 



JOHN HOWE, M.A. 




ANALYSIS OF HIS WRITINGS. 



LONDON: 

THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY, 

56, PATERNOSTER ROW ; 65, ST. PAUL'S CHURCHYARD j 
AND 164, PICCADILLY. 

1862. 




WITH AN 



HENRY ROGERS. 



A NEW EDITION. 



By Transfer 
D. C. Public Library 
OCT t 5 1934 



LONDON: BENJAMIN PAR.DON, PRINTER, PATERNOSTER ROW. 




TO THE 

MEMORY 

OF THE BELOVED FRIEND 
TO WHOM 

THE FORMER EDITION OF THIS WORK 
WAS INSCRIBED. 



PREFACE, 



The preface to the first edition of this work contained 
an apology for some too probable negligences and 
inaccuracies, which, from the unavoidable rapidity 
with which the work was written — though the sub- 
ject and materials had been long meditated — might 
be found in the composition. The work has now 
received a careful revision, and it is hoped that many, 
if not all, such blemishes are removed. For the most 
part, however, the work is left as it was. It is true 
that twenty -five years cannot pass with any man, who 
in any measure " lives to learn," without producing 
changes of judgment and of taste ; and possibly some 
of the passages in this work might have been ex- 
pressed more concisely if they had been written now. 
I have indulged myself, however, in little more 
than verbal alterations, as it is easier to rebuild 
from the foundation than to alter a fabric in detail ; 
such attempts seldom end in anything else than 
spoiling both the old and the new. 

Omitting, for the reasons above assigned, the 
introductory paragraphs of the former preface, I 

a 2 



VI 



PREFACE. 



retain only such portions as must be equally appro- 
priate to every edition. I said, 

u In the course of the work, I have, of course, 
been compelled to touch on many points which have 
often excited the utmost bitterness of party-spirit. 
In these cases, I can sincerely say, I have endea- 
voured to maintain a tone of historic impartiality. 
I should have felt myself utterly unworthy of being 
the biographer of Howe, had I not been emulous of 
imitating, in some humble measure, that calm, 
candid, dispassionate temper of mind for which he 
was so justly eminent. 

u Howe was a nonconformist; I have endea- 
voured faithfully to represent his reasons for his 
nonconformity : but it has been infinitely far from 
my purpose to employ his name in subserviency to 
party purposes. To enlist Mm, — whose temper and 
spirit were so transcendently catholic ; whose whole 
life was devoted to the cause of our common Chris- 
tianity ; and who abhorred all excess of party feel- 
ing, whether displayed by those with whom he 
agreed, or by those from whom he differed ; — to 
enlist Mm, I say, in the mere strife of party, would, 
in my estimation, be a flagrant insult to his memory. 

u I have not therefore made Howe's noncon- 
formity a topic disproportionately prominent, or 
more so than the impartial history of his life de- 
manded. I could not help feeling that the name 
and memory of such a man are the property, not of 



PREFACE. 



vii 



one denomination, but of the whole Christian 
church ; and that, however strong the reasons which 
endear him to any one party, the reasons are still 
stronger which should endear him to all. 

" To write the life of Howe with any mean, 
sectarian feeling, would, in my estimation, be as 
unutterably absurd, as to write the life of Cromwell 
merely to show that he was an Independent, or that 
of Milton, to prove that he was a Baptist. 

" I have only further to add, that no source of 
information to which I could possibly obtain access, 
whether in the shape of MSS. or printed books, has 
been neglected. The reader will see that research 
has not been in vain ; many letters of Howe, and 
one or two other documents, have been recovered, 
as well as a considerable number of facts, not men- 
tioned in Calamy's ' Life.' 

"My cordial acknowledgments are clue to the 
several gentlemen who have kindly answered in- 
quiries, and contributed to my materials ; more 
especially to Joshua Wilson, Esq., of the Inner 
Temple, justly distinguished for his minute and 
extensive knowledge of literary antiquities ; to 
Jeremiah Wiffen, Esq., Librarian to the Duke of 
Bedford; to Dr. Williams, of Shrewsbury; to the 
Rev. Thomas Milner, of Northampton ; to the Eev. 
R. Slate, of Preston ; and to the trustees of Dr. 
Williams' Library, for the access they afforded me 
to the Baxter MSS." 



Vlll 



PREFACE. 



It only remains to add, that I have omitted some 
irrelevant pages in the third chapter, the reasons for 
which will be found stated in the Appendix ; that 
I have lightened some of the other chapters by 
omitting or abridging some of the extracts from 
the prefaces to Howe's various works, retaining 
only such portions as, like his letters and other 
documents, throw light upon his life and character, 
On the other hand, the critical remarks on his 
writings in Chapter XII. have been largely aug- 
mented and illustrated by brief extracts. 

For a not uninteresting addition to the Appendix, 
containing letters of Howe hitherto unpublished, I 
am indebted to the courtesy of Mr. H. 0. Coxe, 
librarian of the Bodleian, and to the kindness of 
the Rev. James Turner, of Knutsford. 

I am also indebted for friendly communications 
on some minute points in the memoir, received 
many years ago, from John Dove, Esq., of Leeds, 
and Frederick Brough, Esq., of London. 



CONTENTS. 



INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 

PAGE 

The materials for Howe's Biography comparatively scanty. — Causes of 
this — Destruction of his MSS. — Probable reasons of his conduct- 
Chief design of the present volume — Principal aspects under which 
Howe's character is to be contemplated — Value of a certain species 
of biography — This mode of presenting important truth illustrated 
by the structure of the Scriptures 1 



CHAPTER II. 

from 1630 to 1656. 

Howe's family and connexions — Expulsion of his father from Lough- 
borough, by Archbishop Laud — Causes of it — Retreats to Ireland, 
and returns in consequence of the Rebellion — Account of young 
Howe's studies at Oxford and Cambridge — Remarks on systematic 
Theology — His catholic spirit early displayed — Account of his Ordi- 
nation — Settlement at Great Torrington — His ministerial success — 
State of his opinions respecting Church Polity and Discipline — His 
marriage — Account of his Fast-day services — Remarks ... 16 



CHAPTER III. 

from 1656 to 1658. 

Howe's first interview with Cromwell — Preaches at Whitehall — 
Cromwell proposes that he should become his Chaplain — Howe's 
reluctance — Scruples overcome — Motives which actuated Cromwell 
in the selection of Howe — Remarks on the Protector's religious 
character — State of religious parties — Letters of Howe to Baxter, 
published from the Baxter MSS. — Howe's reluctance to continue at 



X 



CONTENTS. 



PAGE 

Whitehall — Grounds of it — Manner in which he conducted himself 
during his connexion with Cromwell — Instances of his disinterested- 
ness, integrity, and benevolence — Reflections 37 



CHAPTER IV. 
from 1658 to 1668. 

Death of Cromwell — Howe still remains at Whitehall — Character of 
Richard Cromwell — His deposition — Letter of Howe to Baxter on 
that event — Howe returnes to Torrington — Is informed against — 
Defends himself successfully — Is ejected by the Act of Uniformity — 
Howe's interview with Dr. Wilkins — Reflections — A Citation against 
him — His interview with Bishop Ward — Oxford oath — Howe's con- 
duct on that occasion — Letter to his brother-in-law — Reflections 
on Protestant persecution — Publishes "The Blessedness of the 
Righteous." . 89 



CHAPTER V. 

from 1669 to 1677. 

Howe invited to become Chaplain to Lord Massarene, of Antrim 
Castle — Accepts the situation — Removes with his family to Ireland — 
Probably the happiest period of his life — Nature of his employ- 
ments — Universal respect he conciliated — Publishes his ' ' Vanity of 
Man as Mortal " — Circumstances in which it originated — Publishes 
his " Delighting in God " — Reflections — Composes the first part of his 
"Living Temple" — Is invited to the pastoral charge of a congrega- 
tion in London — Self-examination previous to leaving Antrim — 
Reflections — Removes his family to London — King Charles's Indul- 
gence — Remarks — Howe publishes the first part of his "Living 
Temple" 127 



CHAPTER VI. 
from 1677' to 1678. 



Andrew Marvell's defence of Howe against Thomas Danson's attack 
on the treatise of " Divine Prescience " 157 



CONTENTS. 



XI 



CHAPTER VII. 

from 1677 to 1680. 

Severities exercised upon the Nonconformists during this period — 
Howe's earnest desire for an adjustment of the differences between 
the Church and the Dissenters— The Popish Plot— Curious Interview 
with a certain Nobleman— Howe's reply to Stillingfleet— Extracts— 
His expostulation with Tillotson on account of his Sermon before 
the King — Another attempt at Comprehension— Bill of Exclusion — 
Proceedings of the Parliament of 1680 177 



CHAPTER VIII. 
from 1681 to 1684. 

Condition of the Nonconformists during this period — Howe's Meeting- 
house disturbed — Account of his Publications in 1681, 1682, and 
1683— Preaches his Sermon on the Union of Protestants — Account of 
it — Letter of Consolation to Lady Russell — Reflections — Expostula- 
tory Letter to Bishop Barlow 194 



CHAPTER IX. 

from 1685 to 1690. 

Conduct of Howe in Persecution — Is invited by Lord Wharton to 
accompany him in his Travels on the Continent — His Letter of Fare- 
well to his Flock — Reflections— Settles at Utrecht — Mode of Life 
there — Correspondence with Lady Russell — Interview with Burnet — 
Is introduced to the Prince of Orange — Indulgence of James II. — 
Howe returns home — Conduct of the Nonconformists with respect to 
the designs of the Court — Howe's Interview with the King — Curious 
scene at Dr. Sherlock's — The Revolution of 1688 — Howe's Address 
to the Prince of Orange — His Letter on behalf of the French Pro- 
testants — He publishes his " Case of the Dissenters Represented 
and Argued — Act of Toleration passed — Howe's Address to the 
Conformists and Nonconformists on that event .... 221 



CHAPTER X. 

from 1690 to 1703. 

Disputes among the Nonconformists — Attempt to unite the Presby- 
terians and Congregationalists — " Heads of Agreement" — Agitation 



Xll 



CONTENTS. 



of the Antinomian Controversy — Circumstances which led to it — Dr. 
Crisp's Sermons — Howe's Sermons on the Carnality of Religious Con- 
tention — Letter to Mr. Spilsbury — Letters from the MSS. in Woburn 
Abbey — Letters from the Ayscough MSS. in the British Museum — 
Letters to Sir Charles and Lady Hoghton, and others — Controversy 
on "Occasional Conformity" — Principles on which Howe defended 
that practice 270 



CHAPTER XI. 

from 1704 to 1705. 

Howe's last Illness — State of Mind — Death — Extract from his Will — 
His Person — Analysis of his Character 313 



CHAPTER XII. 

ANALYSIS OF HOWE'S WRITINGS. 

Introductory Remarks — Howe's Posthumous Works— The Living 
Temple — The Treatise on Delighting in God — The Blessedness of 
the Righteous — The Vanity of Man as Mortal — The Tractate on the 
Divine Prescience — The Calm and Sober Inquiry into the Possibility 
of a Trinity in the Godhead — The Redeemer's Tears wept over Lost 
Souls — The Redeemer's DominionV over the Invisible World — Howe's 
Funeral Sermons, and other occasional Discourses .... 361 



APPENDIX. 

L A few particulars respecting Howe's Family and Descendants — 
II. Calamy's account of the treatment of John Howe's father by 
Archbishop Laud — III. Extract from the Register at Cam- 
bridge — IV. Remarks on Cromwell's Character — V. Outline of a 
Sermon preached before Cromwell — VI. Letter to the Rev. Thomas 
Whitaker, of Leeds, and extracts from a letter to Baxter — VII. Three 
hitherto unpublished letters of Howe — VIII. Preface to John 
Chorlton's Funeral Sermon for Henry Newcome — Dedication to the 
Third volume of Dr. Manton's works •. 437 



LIFE OF JOHN HOWE, M.A. 



INTRODUCTORY CHAPTER. 

the materials fob howe's biography comparatively scanty — causes op 
this — destruction op his mss. — probable reasons of his conduct- 
chief design of the present volume — principal aspects under which 
howe's character is to be contemplated — value of a certain species 
of biography — this mode of presenting important truth illustrated 
by the structure of the scriptures. 

I am ambitious, I must confess, of rendering this book 
something more than a bare collection of facts and 
dates. Indeed, if a simple narrative had been my 
only object, so large a volume would have been quite 
unnecessary, since all that has reached us of the 
personal history of John Howe, might have been 
comprised within less than half the compass. The 
materials for his biography are far more scanty than 
is usual in the case of men, who have occupied 
stations so prominent, and taken a part in scenes so 
interesting. 

That the world knows no more of him is, it is 
true, to be attributed to himself. If he had not in 
his last moments laid sacrilegious hands on the 
voluminous manuscripts which contained the history 
of his public and private life, there would have been 

B 



2 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



nothing to lament and nothing to desire on this 
point. We should have possessed a work as delight- 
fully minute as that of Baxter or Burnet, charac- 
terized by a freedom from prejudice which did not 
belong to the former of these writers, and a depth of 
reflection which could not be expected in the latter. 
If these manuscripts had been preserved, we should 
probably have known more of the history of religion 
in Howe's time, — especially during the Protectorate 
of Cromwell,* the very interior of whose court he 
could have laid bare to us, — than can be obtained 
from any existing source. Intrinsically valuable as 
such information would have been, it would have 
derived an additional charm from the manner in 
which, we may fairly presume, it would have been 
conveyed to us ; we should have had it from one 
who was never even suspected of partiality or pre- 
judice ; who was free alike from the meanness of the 
time-server, and the blind zeal of the partisan. 

But these regrets are vain. The manuscripts in 
question were destroyed on his death-bed, by Howe's 
express desire. The account of this singular circum- 
stance is still preserved in a letter from his son, 
Dr. George Howe, to his brother-in-law, the Rev. 
Obadiah Hughes, who had written to ask what 
manuscripts Howe had left behind him. The docu- 
ment announcing the mortifying fact, is here pre- 
sented to the reader. 

* See at a subsequent page, some very curious letters of Howe, throwing 
considerable light on this subject, and first published in the former edition 
of the present work. The author was fortunate enough to discover them 
amongst the "Baxter MSS.," deposited in Dr. William^- Library, Eed 
Cross Street. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



3 



"Sir, — I am extremely concerned that some time before 
my honoured father's decease, I was utterly disabled to reap 
the advantage myself, and communicate it to his friends, of 
the large memorials he had collected of the material passages 
of his own life, and of the times wherein he lived, which he 
most industriously concealed till his last illness, when, having 
lost his speech, which I thought he would not recover, he 
surprisingly called me to him, and gave me a key, and 
ordered me to bring all the papers, (which were stitched up in 
a multitude of small volumes,) and made me solemnly promise 
him, notwithstanding all my reluctance, immediately to 
destroy them, which accordingly I did ; and have left me no 
other of his writings . but his short sermon notes, excepting 
some passages in the frontispiece of the Bible he used in his 
study, which I here transmit to you, and know it will be 
very acceptable. I am sorry I can give no further account, 
but that is a ' magnum in parvo/ etc. I am, 

" Your sincerely affectionate Kinsman, 
and humble Servant, 

" George Howe." 

One feels almost tempted to regret that Howe 
should have recovered his speech at all, since lie 
could find no better use for it. — His commands, 
however, were but too punctually obeyed, and it 
may be safely affirmed, that seldom has filial obe- 
dience been more exemplary, or cost a struggle more 
severe. Not a few would have been vehemently 
tempted to play the casuist on this occasion ; and, if 
it did not imply some participation in the guilt of 
such conduct, I should heartily wish that Dr. George 
Howe had been of the number. 

What might be Howe's motives for thus defrauding 
posterity of these important documents, it is vain 
to inquire. Perhaps it was charity ; for he might 

b2 



4 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



think, that the reputation of some of the persons 
mentioned in his narrative would suffer more from 
his honesty than the world could be benefited 
by it. Perhaps it was modesty; for he might 
possibly suspect himself of some touch of vanity, in 
permitting such a voluminous account of himself to 
go forth to the world. Most men are content so long 
as they do not know but that they have a good 
motive for their conduct ; it was sufficient to disquiet 
the sensitive conscience of Howe, if he only sus- 
pected there might be a bad one. 

But though the materials for the biography of 
Howe are necessarily scanty; though it must be 
deficient in that minute particularity, which, in the 
estimation of triflers, is the great charm of this 
species of composition, and which, in the estimation 
of those who are not triflers, tends to relieve and 
enliven matter of a more grave and important cha- 
racter, there is still sufficient to render his life well 
worth writing. Manv letters and two or three other 
documents have been reclaimed by the researches of 
the present writer, and are now presented to the 
public for the first time ; * while almost every incident 
of his life that has come down to us is pregnant with 
instruction, because illustrative of character. 

This being the case, enough is left for the main 
object of the present volume, which is rather to give 
a minute analysis of Howe's character and writings, 
than to furnish what, in fact, it would be hopeless to 
attempt, — a circumstantial account of his life. His 
character, as reflected in his conduct and in his 

* 1836. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



5 



works, is, and must ever be to the Christian, but 
above all to the Christian minister, — a study ; a 
subject worthy of profound contemplation. 

I cannot but avow mv opinion, — an opinion formed 
after no very limited acquaintance with the lives and 
writings of eminent Christians, — that of the many 
whose memoir's are before the public, there is scarcely 
one characterized by excellence so various, or so 
great in its several kinds, as the subject of these 
pages; scarcely one who presents such an harmo- 
nious combination of all that is great, noble, and 
lovely in human character. I am well aware, indeed, 
that the several elements of excellence which entered 
into the composition of this extraordinary man, may, 
taken separately, be found in other men in equal, if 
not much larger measure ; but the distinctive beautv 
of his character is that of combination and sym- 
metrical relation of parts : so much so, that it is no 
paradox to affirm, that the very fullest development 
of which any single intellectual or moral quality 
might have been susceptible, and which in some 
other men, distinguished by marked inequality of 
character, might have been justly considered an 
excellence, would in his case have been a defect, be- 
cause it would have impaired that rare harmony 
which now pervades the whole. 

Without anticipating that more minute analysis of 
his character, which is reserved for a subsequent 
page, it may be allowed in this place to indicate the 
more important aspects under which it may be 
contemplated. It is true, that his intellectual quali- 
ties were of the highest order, and perhaps his 



6 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



aptitudes for abstract speculation have very seldom 
been much surpassed. It may be safely said, how- 
ever, that there are other points of his character far 
more worthy of notice. It is the singular diversity 
and not less singular combination of moral excellence 
that chiefly renders him an object of such engaging 
interest. To use the scarcely hyperbolical language 
of his friend and coadjutor, who preached his funeral 
sermon, "it seemed as though he was intended by 
Heaven to be an inviting example of universal good- 
ness." 

None can peruse his writings without feeling that 
his mind was habitually filled with the contempla- 
tion of that peculiar but truly Divine character, that 
comprehensive and all-pervading excellence, the ulti- 
mate development of which, in those who embrace 
Christianity, is the design of all the doctrines it 
reveals, and of all the powerful motives by which 
it prompts to action. This character consists in the 
complete restoration of harmony between all the 
faculties of the soul; such a distribution and mutual 
subserviency of all the constituent principles of our 
nature, as shall secure the highest perfection of 
them all, and enable us uniformly and . equably to 
sustain the various relations in which we stand to 
God, to ourselves, and to one another. 

This character, an approximation to which is all 
that can be expected on earth, can be fully matured 
only under the influences of a far other clime ; still 
it was the subject of Howe's habitual and intense 
contemplation. Plato himself never kindled with 
so intense a rapture over his beautiful visions of 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



V 



ideal virtue, as Howe, with a mind enlarged and 
purified by the gospel, dwelt on the lineaments 
of that image into which the Christian is gradually 
transformed as he gazes, " by the Spirit of the Lord."* 
I have said that none can study his character, 
as reflected in his writings, without perceiving that 
he was enamoured of universal excellence; I add, 
that none can study it as illustrated by his life, with- 
out perceiving that he pursued it with all the 
strength and constancy of a predominant passion; 
in fact, with the same ardour with which others 
struggle for the realization of the darling schemes 
of a less noble ambition. His was no merely specu- 
lative admiration of holiness and virtue ; it exerted, 
as all his conduct shows, an all-controlling practical 
influence over his w r hole life. His actions and 
motives were habitually determined by a reference to 
this standard. So much was this the case, that with 
him, most evidently, the various events of life, and 
its rapidly changing states of thought and feeling, 
were not ends, but only means to an end. Its joys 
and sorrows, its hopes and fears, its passions and 
pursuits, were but so many occasions for expanding 
and strengthening, in one or other respect, that 
character, which, when duly exercised by discipline 
and confirmed by habit, he knew, and exulted to 
know, should be perfected in heaven, and there 
receive the stamp of immortality. In a w^ord, he 
was what so few Christians are, but what all ought 
to be, simply and habitually desirous of subjecting 

* See liis Treatise entitled, "The Blessedness of the Righteous," and on 
" Delighting in God," passim. 



8 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



his whole nature to the dominion of the gospel. 
Time, with him, derived all its importance from a 
reference to eternity, and earth from its being a 
scene of discipline for heaven. 

The progress, which a man so deeply imbued 
with a knowledge of Christian excellence and so 
deeply inspired with the love of it, would make, 
may be readily conceived, since he was constantly 
alive to what he ought to be, and as constantly on 
the watch to reduce that knowledge to practice. 
Between such a man and the generality of Chris- 
tians, there must necessarily be as great a difference 
as there is between the well-instructed mechanician, 
who reflects on art the lights of science, and in 
whom theory and practice mutually aid and illus- 
trate one another, and the rude artisan, who applies 
in a desultory manner, principles, of the compre- 
hensiveness and beautv of which he knows little. 
The comparatively inexperienced seaman, and the 
dexterous pilot, may both reach the port ; but the 
one will trim his sails to every variation of wind, 
and make his advantage of every breath that blows, 
while the other will often be driven from his course, 
and feel that when he reaches the haven at last, it 
has been without his energetic concurrence. There 
are many Christians, who, under the conduct of that 
gracious Spirit which influences the minds of all 
who are truly such, and under that various discipline 
of life which Divine Providence subordinates to the 
same great end, have made no mean attainments in 
holiness, and no slight approximation towards that 
character which is to be fully perfected in heaven ; 



LIFE OF HOWE. 9 

but who , nevertheless, have not been distinctly 
aware of the various stages of that transformation 
through which they have passed. As they look 
back upon considerable tracts of time, they can per- 
ceive a change ; but they also perceive that while 
it was being effected, they were almost wholly pas- 
sive : with them, the various exigencies of life, 
its trials and its temptations, unconsciously suggest, 
at the very time of their occurrence, the principles 
on which they are to act : but they cannot say that 
those principles are distinctly and habitually present 
to the mind, or that they live under a conscious 
readiness to employ them before the exigency which 
demands their exercise arrives. The consequence 
is, that many opportunities of this heavenly and 
spiritual discipline are lost altogether, — or worse 
than lost. This is especially the case with respect 
to those petty occurrences of life, which are errone- 
ously supposed to be too insignificant to form a part 
of a grand course of moral discipline : though it is 
obvious that by their perpetual recurrence, and the 
subtle influence which their supposed insignificance 
gives them, they often exert a more powerful control 
over the formation of character, than events of far 
greater moment. On these trifling occasions, as 
they are absurdly thought, want of forethought and 
wakefulness of spirit often robs the Christian of the 
profit he might derive from them. There is many a 
man who is not ashamed to lose his temper or his 
patience, because his servant has been negligent, 
who, upon being visited by some great calamity, 
would probably display the resignation of a Christian. 

B 3 



10 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



Now John Howe evidently regarded all the 
events of life, great and little, as affording oppor- 
tunities of discipline and self-improvement. He 
did not permit the occasion to suggest or not r 
as might happen, the principles on which he was to 
act, but held his principles in constant readiness to 
meet the occasion. If we may judge from the 
whole tenor of his life and writings, it is not more 
evident that the sculptor intends those little strokes 
and delicate touches by which his chisel operates on 
the marble, to contribute to the complete develop- 
ment of that image of beauty, which as yet only 
exists in his conception, than it is that Howe in- 
tended to subordinate to the purposes of moral dis- 
cipline and improvement, all the occurrences of 
human life. Other characters often exhibit, though 
it may be in a different degree, the same results ; 
it is to the difference in point of design and systematic 
effort between him and others, that we wish particu- 
larly to point the attention of the reader. 

By thus habitually estimating the value and im- 
portance of present interests solely or principally 
from their relation to the things that are unseen and 
eternal, and by their ultimate bearing on Christian 
character, he attained that superiority to passion 
and prejudice, that elevation of mind, that disinte- 
restedness and magnanimity, which were manifested 
throughout his life, and which so often and so 
deservedly excited the admiration of all parties. 

Such, it appears to the present writer, is the 
principal aspect from which the character of this 
great man ought to be contemplated. He was one 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



11 



of the very few who, with a truly enlarged and 
sublime conception of that various excellence, that 
moral and spiritual beauty which the gospel of 
Jesus Christ is designed to form within us, devoted 
his whole powers and faculties, steadily and sys- 
tematically, to the attainment of it. 

A more full analysis of Howe's character will, 
as already intimated, be attempted after the bio- 
graphical sketch of his life. 

If any reader, who may be ignorant of Howe's 
character and writings, should think that I am deal- 
inff in mdiscriminate and extravagant eulogy, I 
would simply ask him in what terms he woidd speak 
of one, of whom the following facts could be trulv 
affirmed ? Let it be supposed, for example, that it 
could be said of some individual, that throughout 
life he had friends in all parties, and enemies in 
none : that those who agreed hi little else, concurred 
in loving and admiring him ; that he conciliated the 
fullest esteem of those from whom he differed, with- 
out alienating the affection of those with whom he 
agreed ; that he knew so well how to reconcile the 
claims of truth with the claims of charity, that he was 
firm without bigotry, and moderate without mean- 
ness; that in his hands even controversy wore an 
amiable spirit, and that while he never offended 
against his conscience by concealing his sentiments, 
he never offended against charity by expressing 
them : that this strange union of zeal and discretion, 
integrity and prudence, wisdom and love, was main- 
tained throughout a long and eventful life, in an 
age of bitter faction, amidst scenes of civil tumult, 



12 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



and in situations the most difficult and perplex- 
ing; — what, I ask, would the reader say of such an 
individual ? Would he not say that the panegyric 
which he had deemed extravagant, was no more 
than due to excellence so rare ? An appeal to every 
record of the life of Howe, will show that all this, 
and more than this, can safely be affirmed of him.* 
If, indeed, I could forget to what all this variety of 
excellence was owing, or had represented it as the 
native growth of unaided human reason, then the 
language I have used might justly appear unwar- 
rantably strong; but the light in which I regard 
him, is that of a signal trophy of the transforming 

* Even that splenetic party- writer, Anthony Wood, who seldom bestows 
a syllable of praise on those who differ from him, and not unfrequently 
traduces them in the grossest manner ; who, if he had any charge to make, 
can hardly be suspected of suppressing it from an excess of charity, and 
least of all, in favour of one of Oliver Cromwell's chaplains, divests himself, 
when speaking of Howe, of all his customary bitterness. "He is a person 
of neat and polite parts, and not of that sour and unpleasant converse as 
most of his persuasion are : so moderate also and calm in those smaller 
matters under debate between the Church and his party, (which have been 
fiercely discussed by some very passionate among them, ) that he hath not so 
much as once in writing (as I know of) interested himself in any busy and 
too fruitless quarrels of this kind, but hath applied himself wholly to more 
beneficial and useful publications on practical subjects ; in which under- 
taking he hath acquitted himself so well, his books being penned in a fine, 
smooth, and natural style, (!) that they are much commended and read by 
very many conformists, who generally have him in good esteem." The 
commendation of his style is an excess of politeness, which certainly could 
not have been expected, and as far as truth is concerned, might have been 
dispensed with. For once, however, let it be said, that Anthony Wood 
erred on the side of candour. Such is the respect which distil) guished ex- 
cellence can sometimes extort even from that most hateful spirit, — equally 
hateful wheresoever displayed, — the spirit of party ; 

" illis carminibus stupens 

Demittit atras bellua centiceps 
Aures, et intorti capillis 
Eumenidum recreantur angues." 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



13 



power of the gospel, — an illustrious example of 
what it is, and of what it can effect. Thus viewed, 
his character well deserves the attentive contempla- 
tion of every Christian ; and we may cease to 
wonder at the declaration of Robert Hall, which I 
once heard him make when conversing with him, — 
"that as a minister, he had derived more benefit 
from John Howe, than from all other divines put 
together." * 

The effect produced on the mind by the frequent 
and stedfast contemplation of rare excellence, em- 
bodied in real character, is familiar to all, and need 
not be insisted on. That it should produce such an 
effect, is a necessary result of the very structure of 
the human mind, which delights to contemplate 
abstract truths and principles, not in their naked 
form, but as exhibited in action, and, as Jeremy 
Taylor would say, " clothed in a body of circum- 
stances." When thus presented to us, they are not 
only understood, but seen ; not only coldly acknow- 
ledged to be true, but vividly felt to be so, The 
imagination aids the reason, and gives form, colour- 
ing, and substance, to what would otherwise be airy 
and unimpressive abstractions. 

Amongst the manifold proofs which the Scripture 
affords of the superhuman wisdom which has pre- 

* I was then quite a young man, and I have since, when pondering the 
seeming extravagance of the expression, thought whether the words might 
not be ' ' more benefit than from any other divine. " But I think the ex- 
pression was as I have given it ; and the words "as a minister" explain them. 
But, like many other utterances of fervid admiration which fall from the 
lips in conversation, the words, need not be pressed to their full literal 
import. They do express, however, an intense sense of obligation. 



14 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



sided over its composition, and which has adapted 
it in its very form and structure to the intellectual 
constitution of man, perhaps none is more striking 
than the mode in which it has exhibited its truths 
and doctrines. It is not after the method of a 
severe logic or a too solicitous philosophy. As a 
spirit of magnanimous wisdom will induce every 
true orator to sacrifice his peculiar habits and tastes 
of mind, if by so doing he can convey what he 
deems important truth, in a form more likely to 
impress the minds of his audience ; so the Divine 
Author of the Scripture has condescended to impart 
its truths and doctrines, not in the form that might 
have been most worthy of his own infinite nature, 
but in that best suited to our limited capacities. 
They are developed in the course of a various and 
deeply interesting narrative, or embodied in the 
actions of those who taught them ; especially in the 
life of Him who was the " Great Example." Thus 
that very peculiarity, which a flippant and super- 
ficial philosophy has sometimes charged upon the 
Scriptures as a blemish, is in reality, and in the 
estimation of true wisdom, a Divine excellence. In 
any other form, the volume of revelation would 
have been absolutely unintelligible to the mass of 
mankind, and comparatively unprofitable to all. 

Excellence thus exhibited is more clearly seen, 
more deeply remembered, more steadily fixed in 
the mind, simply because it is associated with the 
narrative in which it is unfolded, and the persons in 
whom it is developed. It resembles history, as told, 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



15 



not in the dry form of chronicle, but in the life-like 
forms of the painter or the sculptor. 

As the mind dwells on such models day by day, 
it is led on from admiration to love, from love to 
imitation. The persons in whom snch qualities 
reside, are familiarized and endeared to us : as we 
continue to gaze, a silent resemblance passes on our 
spirits. It is thus that the example of Cheist him- 
self operates on his disciples ; his people are trans- 
formed into ;, 'the same image from glory to glory," 
though still "by the Spirit of the Lord;" and a 
similar influence, in a far inferior degree, results 
from the contemplation of the characters of those, 
who have diligently, though at the best most im- 
perfect! v. imitated Him. 



CHAPTER II. 



FEOM 1630 TO 1656. 

howe's family and connexions — expulsion or his father from lough- 
borough, BY ARCHBISHOP LAUD — CAUSES OF IT — RETREATS TO IRELAND, 
AND RETURNS IN CONSEQUENCE OF THE REBELLION — ACCOUNT OF YOUNG 
HOWE'S STUDIES AT OXFORD AND CAMBRIDGE — REMARKS ON SYSTEMATIC 
THEOLOGY — HIS CATHOLIC SPIRIT EARLY DISPLAYED — ACCOUNT OF HIS ORDI- 
NATION — SETTLEMENT AT GREAT TORRINGTON — HIS MINISTERIAL SUCCESS — 
STATE OF HIS OPINIONS RESPECTING CHURCH POLITY AND DISCIPLINE — HIS 
MARRIAGE — ACCOUNT OF HIS FAST-DAY SERVICES — REMARKS. 

Of Howe's family little is known. When it lias 
been said that his father was a, clergyman, and a 
man of acknowledged piety and worth; that his 
mother was a woman of very uncommon abilities ; 
and that his uncle, Obadiah Howe, was yiear of 
Boston, in Lincolnshire ; almost all that is certainly 
known of his connexions is already told.* 

* A few particulars, some of them curious, will be found in the Appendix, 
No. I. 

Mr. Brook,'in his "Lives," tells us that the elder Howe was one of the 
' ^eminent ministers," who in their youth were pupils of Francis Higginson, 
of Leicester. Higginson left England for America in 1629. — Lives of the 
Puritans, vol. ii. p. 372. 

Obadiah Howe was M.A,, and in 1654, Minister of Horncastle ; where he 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



17 



Such matters, however, are of very little moment. 
The fame of John Howe is the fame of exalted 
genius and distinguished worth, and could receive 
but little augmentation from the proudest pedigree 
or the most illustrious parentage. 

Of Howe's childhood as little is known as of his 
family. The character of his parents, however, 
fully justifies the belief that he was educated with 
care ; that he must have been early imbued with a 
reverence for religion, and nurtured in the strictest 
principles of morality. 

He was born May 17, 1630, at Loughborough, 
Leicestershire ; of which place his father was 
minister. 

This excellent man had been appointed to this 
parish by Archbishop Laud, but was not destined to 
remain there long. His arrogant patron attached 
little less importance to the most insignificant cere- 
monies than to the weightiest articles of the deca- 
logue. He could see no impropriety in sanctioning 
the Book of Sports, while he was ready to visit the 
omission of the most trifling ecclesiastical punctilios 
with relentless severity. As Howe's father, it seems, 
could not conscientiously comply with those cere- 
monies, which the zealous Archbishop persisted in 
introducing into public worship, and by which, 
whether he intended it or not, he was fast assimilat- 
ing the Church of England to the Chinch of Rome, 

published " The Pagan Preacher Silenced," in answer to John Goodwin's 
work, entitled "The Pagan's Debt and Dowry." He died February 27, 
1683. — Nonconformist Memorial, vol. ii. 443. An account of him will be 
found in Wood's " Athenae Oxonienses." 



18 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



it was soon discovered that he was not the man for 
Loughborough, and he was consequently ejected. 
This can excite no surprise ; for the Archbishop's 
whole little soul was immersed in pomp and ceremo- 
nial ; he seemed to think the restoration of broken 
crucifixes and damaged paintings, amongst the most 
sacred cares of his high office, and busied himself as 
earnestly as if salvation depended on it, in adjusting 
the position of altars, in prescribing obeisances and 
grimaces, in regulating the attire of his clergy and 
in adding to it some of the frippery of the Romish 
ecclesiastical wardrobe, which had lain neglected 
ever since the Reformation.* Had the relentless 
spirit of persecution by which this man was ani- 
mated been directed, however erroneously, against 
the gigantic abuses in the Church, he would at least 
have escaped our contempt, though not our abhor- 
rence. But to see great power abused to such mean 
purposes, to see a tyrant with the soul of a deputy- 
master of ceremonies, is surely one of the most ridi- 
culous as well as humiliating of spectacles. 

On being expelled from Loughborough, Mr. Howe 
and his son sought a refuge in Ireland. After stay- 
ing there for some time, the rebellion drove them 

* As an example of the mummeries and antics Laud himself could enact 
in his public devotion, see particularly the account, in Kushworth, of the 
consecration of the church of St. Catherine's Creed. His diary is full of 
amusing traits of his superstitious character. His death alone redeems his 
memory from contempt, That he had considerable learning and no inconsi- 
derable logical acuteness, is true; but they go but a little way to com- 
pensate for his abject superstition and his odious temper. Even Clarendon 
admits, while apologising for him as well as he can, that "men of all quali- 
ties and conditions, who agreed in nothing else," concurred somehow in 
their abhorrence of Laud. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



19 



home again. It is not known in what city or town 
they took up their residence ; but it appears by no 
means to have proved a safe asylum. u It was 
besieged by the rebels/' says Calamy, " several 
weeks together, though without success." # 

On May 19, 1647, when seventeen years of age, 
young Howe was admitted as a sizar into Christ 
College, Cambridge. t Here he became acquainted 
with the celebrated Cudworth, and the not less cele- 
brated Henry More, both of whom he admired and 
loved. With More he formed a close and most 
endeared friendship, which continued till the death 
of that great, though unequal and eccentric genius. 
To his intimacy with these men, Calamy attributes 
what he aptly calls that "platonic tincture," which 
" so remarkably runs through the writings which 
Howe drew up and published in his advanced years." 
But in all probability, he imbibed this " tincture," in 
a far greater degree, from the justly celebrated John 
Smith, of Queen's College, Cambridge, who was, at 
that time, in the height of his deserved reputation, 
and whom, in many points, Howe strongly resem- 
bled. J This " platonic" taste, however, is not to be 

* Calamy, page 7. See Appendix, No. II. 

t Calamy does not mention the year, but it has been ascertained by a 
friend of the author, from an examination of the register at Cambridge. See 
the extract in the Appendix, No. II. 

X "A mind which displays at once such vast intellectual powers, and 
such exalted spiritual endowments, may well excite our admiration ; and 
leave us at a loss which most to wonder at, — that a man at thirty-five should 
have made such gigantic strides in literature ; or that, having done so, he 
should at the same time have made such rapid attainments in the Divine 
life." — Rev. John King, M.A., Preface to his Abridgment of the Select Dis- 
courses, pp. 29, 30. 



20 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



attributed solely, or even principally, to his intimacy 
with the admirers of " the great pagan theologue," as 
Howe himself styles him. Though he drank often 
at the streams, he drank still more frequently at the 
fountain. None can peruse his writings, without 
seeing in almost every page, traces of his ardent 
admiration of Plato, and proofs that it was the admi- 
ration of a kindred mind. Though without the 
slightest pretensions to the eloquence of the renowned 
Greek, he bore no mean resemblance to him in 
loftiness of mind, sublimity of conception, and, above 
all, in intense admiration of all moral excellence. 

Howe remained at Cambridge till 1648, when he 
took his degree of B.A. ; after which he repaired to 
Oxford, where he took the same degree, January 
18, 1649. He was at this time not quite nineteen 
years of age.* 

Here he continued to prosecute his studies with 
unwearied industry. His extensive attainments, in 
conjunction with his exemplary piety, soon acquired 
him reputation in the University, and in due time 
he became Fellow of Magdalen College. On July 
9, 1652, when only twenty -two years of age, he took 
the degree of M.A. By this time he had not only 

* While at Cambridge his "most inward friend," as he forcibly, but 
quaintly expresses it, was Mr. Thomas Wadsworth, a student of Christ's 
College. — Howe's Funeral Sermon for Mr. Richard Adams. 

At Oxford his most "inward friend" seems to have been Mr. Spilsbury, 
a truly excellent man; with whom, says Calamy, Howe "kept up a most 
intimate and endearing correspondence by letter, to his dying day." Two 
of his contemporaries at College, Theophilus Gale and Thomas Danson, 
attacked his admirable little treatise on the "Divine Prescience;" the 
former, in his great work, the Court of the Gentiles;" the latter, in a 
most absurd and virulent little book, for which he received from the caustic 
Andrew Marvell a severe castigation. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



21 



made great attainments in general knowledge, but 
had " conversed closely with the heathen moralists 
and philosophers ; had perused many of the writings 
of the schoolmen, and several systems and common- 
places of the Reformers." Above all, he had com- 
piled for himself a system of theology, from the 
sacred Scriptures alone : " a system which,' 7 as he 
was afterwards heard to say, " he had seldom seen 
occasion to alter." 

It w^ould be well if every theological student 
would, in this as in many other respects, imitate 
Howe's conduct. Systematic theology, as it has 
been too often compiled, has, it is true, been of ques- 
tionable benefit. It has sometimes meant no more 
than an exposition of a certain set of dogmas, to the 
defence of which Scripture is by all means to be 
made subservient, at whatever expense of honesty 
and sound criticism. Where Scripture speaks, or 
seems to speak, in consonance with the opinions of 
the system-maker, well and good ; where it does 
not, various arts of critical discipline and violence 
have been employed to break its refractory spirit, or 
bend it to compliance. Forced and unnatural mean- 
ings of words, wildly conjectural emendations of the 
text, improbable readings, slender authorities, have 
in many cases been all eagerly resorted to for this 
unhallowed purpose ; and the Bible has been made 
the most ridiculous book in the world, just to main- 
tain systems inviolate, and to render theologians 
self-consistent. And even where the faults of sys- 
tematizes have not been so glaring, they have not 
seldom incongruously blended Divine Truth and 



22 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



purely human speculation; the "head of gold" is to 
be supported with the " feet of clay." A thousand 
curious questions have been discussed, on which 
Scripture is silent, and to which it furnishes no 
solution ; while the mysteries which it does reveal, 
instead of being received simply on the faith of the 
inspired testimony which has delivered them, have 
been defended and explained by the most presump- 
tuous reasonings. In such pernicious systems, the 
boundaries between what is certain, because Divinely 
revealed, and what is uncertain, because merely 
deduced by the processes of a fallible logic, are obli- 
terated; truth is disguised by its union with. error, 
and error rendered plausible by its union with truth. 

These faults, not seldom found in systems of 
theology, have been in course of correction as more 
just and comprehensive views of sacred criticism have 
diffused themselves. Having established the general 
truth of the inspired volume on its appropriate 
evidences, theologians saw that it would be more 
rational to suffer it to explain itself by the help of 
the grammar and lexicon, than to let their pre- 
judices determine a priori to what doctrines it must 
be conformable ; in a word, to seek, not some one 
system, out of the thousand which human ingenuity 
or folly might construct, with which it might be 
found to harmonize, but that system, whether 
apparently consistent or not, which develops itself 
by a fair and candid interpretation of the inspired 
page. 

But though it is now generally admitted, that the 
meaning of Scripture is to be ascertained by a sound 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



23 



system of critical exposition, applied to it as a whole, 
and without any reference to the apparent (we are 
sure they cannot be real) discrepancies which may 
be discovered in the results, it by no means follows, 
that an attempt to classify and arrange those results 
in a logical form, in a system of mutual connexion 
and dependence, may not be eminently beneficial to 
the professed theologian. The Bible, it is true, was 
not delivered to us in any such form, and for this 
might be assigned many satisfactory reasons, if this 
were the place for them. Amongst others, however, 
is this obvious one — that professed theologians were 
not the parties for whom the Bible was exclusively, 
or even principally intended. Nevertheless, it may 
be very useful for such men to attempt to reduce its 
contents to a scientific form. To adduce an obvious 
illustration : the human body is a most intricate 
machine, made up of a wondrous collection of 
organs, differing by every conceivable variety of 
form, texture, and structure. Now, the great general 
purposes for which this complicated mechanism was 
constructed, can be fulfilled only so long as the 
relations between its several parts remain unbroken ; 
take it to pieces, dissolve the intertexture of part with 
part, and the beauty and utility of the whole are 
gone. Still it may be very necessary for those 
whose direct office and professed object it is to study 
this wondrous piece of mechanism and to explore its 
manifold mysteries, — to contemplate its several parts 
in detail ; to consider separately, for instance, the 
systems of bones and muscles, of arteries and nerves. 
Much the same value attaches to that species of 



24 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



systematic theology for which we are here pleading ; 
that is, a coherent system of truth, elicited by an 
accurate analysis of the contents of revelation. The 
Bible, just as it is, is best adapted for the general 
practical purposes for which it was constructed : in 
other words, is most likely to be instructive and 
interesting to the generality of mankind, in that 
form in which Divine wisdom has presented it to 
us ; but it may be useful to specific classes of men 
reverently and cautiously to analyse and classify its 
contents. 

Nor let it be hastily supposed, that the com- 
pilation of such a system would be a very trifling 
matter ; that it would merely require industry, or 
exclude the exercise of reason or judgment. It is 
much the contrary. Such a system would be not 
only valuable for its results; the mental discipline, 
the exercise of thought which it would involve, 
would form no inconsiderable benefit. Such a 
system, to be all that it ought to be, instead of 
consisting of a few extracts hastily made from the 
common version, would include a judicious selection 
of the several passages of the original Scriptures ; 
statements of the authorities on which the text is 
sustained, where doubt is felt respecting it ; a vindi- 
cation of the translation adopted, on the principles 
of enlightened criticism ; a distribution of topics in 
a logical and mutually dependent order ; and, where 
it can be effected, the reconciliation of seeming 
discrepancies and inconsistencies. I cannot but 
repeat my conviction, that it would be well for 
every student in theology to imitate, in this matter, 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



25 



so far as leisure might permit, the conduct of John 
Howe. 

Even at this early period of his life, Howe gave a 
striking proof, at once of his jealous regard for 
liberty, and of his exemption from the petty pre- 
judices which disgraced the age. Those prejudices 
too often prevented Christian communion, even 
between those who agreed in every essential point 
of faith and practice. His conduct on the occasion 
referred to, shows that he had already adopted those 
just and comprehensive principles which continued 
throughout life to animate him, and which exhibit, 
in beautiful and impressive harmony, scrupulous 
conscientiousness in the maintenance of his own 
opinions, simply because he believed them to be true, 
with the most tender indulgence towards those who 
differed from him. While he would hold com- 
munion with none who would insist on his adopting 
opinions, however unimportant, in which he could 
not acquiesce, he was willing to extend it to all, 
whatever the diversity of their sentiments on minor 
matters, who recognised the cardinal principles of 
Christianity. No religious opinion or practice can 
be matter of indifference to the individual, because 
he is compelled to adopt or reject it as he con- 
scientiously believes it to be true or false ; but so 
long as all mutually claim and allow this liberty, 
no opinion which does not obviously strike at the 
vital truths of Christianity, should prevent such com- 
munion between the members, and such interchange of 
offices between the ministers , of different religious parties y 
as should serve to indicate their essential unity ; and 

o 



26 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



show that though they are, in some respects, many, 
they are still, in higher and more important respects, 
one. If any party be unwilling to open its jealous 
pale, or to admit us to such catholic communion, 
that is not our fault. All that is demanded of each 
Christian is, that he should be found willing to 
reciprocate such communion with all who "love 
our Lord Jesus Christ in sincerity and in truth." 

We are not, it is true, to disguise truth, or even 
connive at what we deem error, in order to attain 
this great object ; but this point once secured, there 
is no barrier to such inter-communion as is here 
contended for, which the genuine spirit of charity 
will not spurn down. These are the true principles 
of Christian toleration ; as Christians, it is not enough 
that we allow others to form their own opinions ; 
we must seek to manifest our essential unity amidst 
circumstantial differences, by freely holding inter- 
communion with all, who do not demand as the 
condition, a surrender of our liberty or an abandon- 
ment of our principles.* 

Such was the conduct of Howe on the occasion to 
which I now refer. It appears that Dr. Thomas 
Goodwin was the President of the College of which 
Howe was a Fellow, and had invited the scholars of 
his house to meet for Christian worship and fellow- 

* These conclusions (although it is admitted that the work was not 
written precisely with this design) inevitably follow from Jeremy Taylor's 
theory of Toleration, as expounded in his beautiful treatise, entitled "The 
Liberty of Prophesying. " It is true that he has not fully followed out his 
principles, but they clearly involve the consequences above stated. The 
latitude which he allowed to the ministers, none would deny to the other 
members of the Church of Christ. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



27 



ship. It excited some astonishment, that Howe, 
whose reputation was already great, both for talent 
and piety, sought no admission into their society. 
After a time, the Doctor took an opportunity of 
expressing his surprise, that a person so universally 
" esteemed in the College, should not avail himself 
of such a means of spiritual improvement." Upon 
this, Howe frankly declared, "that the true and 
only reason of his conduct was, that he understood 
they laid considerable stress among them on some 
peculiarities which he loved not, though he could 
give others their liberty to take their own way, 
without censuring them or having unkind thoughts 
of them ; but that if they would admit him into 
their society upon catholic terms, he would readily 
become one of them." To this proposal Dr. Good- 
win readily consented. 

Howe could not at this time have been more than 
twenty-two, or at most twenty-three years of age. 
At a period of life thus early, did he show that a 
jealous self-respect and the most scrupulous regard 
to liberty were by no means incompatible with 
a magnanimous disregard of minor differences. He 
had already attained the difficult medium between 
an excessive zeal and a too compliant charity. 

Very soon after taking his degree of M.A., he was 
ordained at Win wick, in Lancashire, by Mr. Charles 
Herle, who was chosen, at Dr. Twisse's death, Pro- 
locutor of the Westminster Assembly, In the parish 
of Winwick, there were several chapelries, the offi- 
ciating Ministers of wdiich assisted at Howe's ordi- 
nation. It was with reference to this, that Howe 

c2 



28 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



used to say, " there were few men whose ordination 
had been so truly primitive as his, having been 
devoted to the sacred office by a primitive Bishop 
and his officiating presbytery." Of Mr. Herle, he 
uniformly spoke in terms of the highest respect.* 

Some time after this, he was led by "an unex- 
pected conduct of Divine Providence," as Calamy 
informs us, (though he does not mention what it 
was,) to Great Torrington,"j" in Devon. With this 
place, he seems to have ever after had associations 
of the strongest and most delightful kind. Here 
some of the happiest years of his life were spent ; 
here his labours were rendered signally useful ; and 
here he preached those discourses, the substance of 
which was afterwards embodied in two of his most 
useful and impressive treatises, — his " Delighting 
in God," and his " Blessedness of the Righteous." 
Though when he first went to Great Torrington, he 
could have been little more than twenty-four years 
of age, his persuasive style of preaching, and his still 
more persuasive example, soon secured him the 
esteem and affection of his people. A striking proof 
of his influence over them, is afforded in the fact, 
(incidentally mentioned in one of the letters I have 
extracted from the Baxter MSS.,) that though, "at 
his first coming to Torrington," he found the church 
divided into two parties, he succeeded, "through 

* Calamy, p. 13. 

t Theophilus Powell was ejected from this place in 1646, by the Presby- 
terians. He was succeeded by Lewis Stukely, an Independent ; after whom 
came Howe. — Calamy, p. 13. Mr. Stukely, it appears, removed to Exeter 
about 1650. — Non. Con. Memorial. Vol. ii. p. 31. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



29 



God's blessing on his endeavours," in restoring 
union. The strong impression which he must have 
produced in this place, is not less strikingly evinced 
in another fact, recorded by Calamy. It appears 
that several inhabitants of Torrington,* who had 
previously been members of the congregational 
church at Bideford, under the pastoral care of an 
old College friend of Howe,*]" sought and obtained 
" their dismission " from the church at Bideford, 
and returned to the bosom of that which, for some 
unknown reason, they had left. 

Various circumstances have led to the supposition, 
that Howe was at this time a " congregationalist," 
in the ordinary sense of that term. Indeed, Dr. 
Increase Mather, with whom he became acquainted 
after his removal to London, and whom he per- 
suaded to supply his place at Torrington for some 
months previous to his own return thither, expressly 
calls Howe " Pastor of a congregational church at 
Great Torrington." But I cannot think that, either 
at this or any other time, Howe exactly symbolized 
with the congregationalists, or indeed with any 
other party. That his own opinions and practices, 
especially in all matters of discipline, more nearly coin- 
cided with those of the congregationalists, than with 
those of any other denomination, is most true ; all 
this, however, is by no means inconsistent with the 
supposition, (justified by many passages in his 

* It is not improbable that these formed one of the two parties into which 
Howe tells us, in the above-mentioned letter, the church at Torrington was 
divided. 

t Mr. William Bartlett. Calamy, p. 14. 



30 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



writings,) that on some of those minor points which 
were fiercely agitated in his day, he had no fixed 
opinion, and that even on some others, in which he 
had his preferences, he was willing (spiritual disci- 
pline, on which he always laid great stress, being 
duly enforced) to sacrifice his own inclinations,* if 
by so doing, he could promote the union of true 
Christians, and the welfare of the universal church ; 
provided always, that the concessions required of him 
were not of such a nature, nor demanded in such a 
manner, as to trench upon the rights of conscience, 
which, with all his latitude, no man guarded with a 
stricter jealousy than he. 

For example ; though his ejectment is conclusive 
evidence that he could not belong to the Church of 
England, as actually established, I do not think 
that he would have objected to some such modified 
episcopacy, as would have contented Baxter or 
Archbishop Usher. That he was not, in several 
important points, a presbyterian, is plain, though 
Calamy, who was himself one, would apparently 
leave us to infer that he was, I do not think, how- 
ever, that he would have objected to some slight 
modification of that form of church government, if 
he could thereby have promoted the union and pros- 
perity of the Church. 

* See particularly some parts of his incomparable letter to a " Person of 
Quality," on Stillingfleet's sermon, in which, pleading for his more scrupu- 
lous brethren, he speaks of his own comparative "latitude" of opinion. See 
also the prefaces to his "Blessedness of the Righteous," and his "Delight- 
ing in God," as well as several other portions of his writings. ISor can the 
reader fail to perceive some curious instances of his latitude of opinion, or 
at least of his undecided state of mind on some minor points, in the subse- 
quent letters (pp. 53—75). 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



31 



As it was, the unyielding rigour with which uni- 
formity was enforced, demanded far greater conces- 
sions than any with which even his catholicity of 
temper and latitude of sentiment could comply. 
Left, therefore, to follow his own judgment and 
inclinations, he became, in fact, much more oT a 
congregation alist than anything else; indeed, as 
it respects his views of spiritual discipline, he was 
strictly so. 

None but such a catholic and magnanimous spirit 
as his, could have carried into effect, (which he 
appears to have done most successfully,) the noble 
plan mentioned in one of the letters now for the first 
time published from the Baxter Manuscripts. This 
was no less than a " settled meeting of the neigh- 
bouring ministers of different persuasions" for mutual 
edification and fellowship. Great Torrington was 
the place at which they met. It seems to have been 
a miniature of that much more extensive scheme, 
which Baxter was throughout his life toiling in vain 
to carry into execution, and in which, as the subse- 
quent letters will show, he more than once called 
Howe, unavailingly, to his aid. 

While at Great Torrington, Howe formed a most 
endeared intimacy with Mr. George Hughes, of 
Plymouth, a minister distinguished no less by his 
piety and worth than by his learning and talents. 
The connexion between them was further cemented 
by Howe's marrying the daughter of his friend. 
This event took place March 1st, 1654. 

The two friends maintained a weekly correspond- 
ence in Latin. A curious incident, connected with 



32 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



this correspondence, deserves mention. One day a 
fire broke out in Howe's house, which was providen- 
tially extinguished by a heavy shower of rain. On 
that very day Howe received a letter from his father- 
in-law, concluding with this remarkable expression, 
" Sit ros coeli super habitaculum vestrum ; " "May 
the dew of heaven be upon your dwelling." 

Of his indefatigable labours at Torrington, some 
idea may be formed from the singular account which 
Calamy received from Howe's own lips, of the ser- 
vices ordinarily held on the public fast-days, which 
in those times were by no means infrequent. "He 
told me," says his biographer, " it was upon those 
occasions his common way, to begin about nine in 
the morning, with a prayer for about a quarter of an 
hour, in which he begged a blessing on the work of 
the day; and afterwards read and expounded a 
chapter or psalm, in which he spent about three 
quarters of an hour * , then prayed for at>out an hour, 
preached for . another hour, and prayed for about 
half an hour, Mt% ; /thi^ :,he :) ^ifed and took some 
little refreshment for about a quarter of an hour 
more, (the people singing all the while,) and then 
came again into the pulpit and prayed for another 
hour, and gave them another sermon of about an 
hour's length ; and so concluded the service of the 
day, at about four of the clock in the evening, with 
about half an hour or more in prayer." 

This extraordinary passage suggests two or three 
reflections. 

On the supposition — a supposition which the 
whole history of the period amply justifies — that 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



33 



such long services were not peculiar to Torrington, 
but were the common practice of the day, religious 
enthusiasm must have been at least as prevalent as 
sober piety. Nothing but this will account for the 
outrage on common sense implied in the above- 
mentioned services, as well as in other practices of 
the age, not less extravagant. Considering the con- 
stitution of the human mind, and the average degree 
of attention which men are willing to pay, or even 
capable of paying, not merely to religious duties, but 
to any duties, we may rest assured that such pro- 
longed devotions could not be generally beneficial. 
It may perhaps be said, that some few might possess 
minds so strenuous and piety so exalted, as to enable 
them to attend to such exercises without distraction. 
This will be adm^Cd^ ^u^^^^^e replied, that 
the duration o^^^c^^g^^^S^^^B regulated, 
not by the c/pacities of the few, but- on the many ; 
for whom, inofeed, thi^ lard 2rxb#j&ted. Slor is it to 
be forgotten, tn^Jfcp thousands they mm have been 
not simply unprom^jfe^sg^^j^g^f; The young, 
whose unwilling attendance could have been en- 
forced only by parental authority — not to mention 
other classes whose compliance with the spirit of the 
age must have been wofully reluctant — could hardly 
retire from such scenes without feeling a strong- 
repugnance to a style of religion which condemned 
them to such wearisome formalities : and to such it 
is certain they could have been nothing more. 

Indeed, in this point of view, not only the practice 
now under consideration, but many other extrava- 
gances which marked the religious spirit of the age, 

c 3 



34 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



must have been eminently injurious, as indeed every- 
thing must ultimately be which violates the dictates 
of nature and common sense, or which at best is 
adapted only to a transient and preternaturally ex- 
cited condition of the human mind. It is true that 
when the mind is thus stimulated, it will often dis- 
play an energy of character, which we shall in vain 
seek in its more ordinary and healthy state ; it will 
not only submit to any constraints, but dare any 
dangers. It was thus with our Puritan ancestors ; 
but that depth and energy of character could not 
last, any more than the unnatural fervour which 
burned in the bosom of the Crusaders : it became 
extinct in a single generation. If we would have 
institutions to be lasting, or to exert a permanent 
influence on human character, we must adapt them 
to human nature, not as it is found under exceptional 
conditions or circumstances, but as it exists in every 
country and in every age. 

Ardent as was the piety of thousands of those 
. times, there can be no doubt that to the severe, 
uninviting, and exaggerated forms of devotion to 
which it gave rise, is to be attributed not a little of 
the licentiousness and irreligion of the succeeding 
reign. The youth, be it recollected, of the Com- 
monwealth, were men in the reign of the second 
Charles, and were but too likely to take revenge for 
the constrained austerity in which their childhood 
was passed, by a proportionate licence when they 
became their own masters. 

We may rest assured that many a little Puritan, 
who had been tutored into precocious gravity and 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



35 



unnatural decorum under the grim discipline of his 
austere elders, was loudest in laugh and song, and 
wildest in folly and dissipation, when the violent 
constraint under which he had acted was removed. 
The transformation which passed on his outward 
man, when the closely-cropped hair expanded into 
fashionable luxuriance, and the plain > stiff, and 
closely-fitted dress was exchanged for ruffles and 
embroidery, was not more striking than that trans- 
formation of mind, of which indeed it was the 
expression and the index. 

But to return to the subject which immediately 
elicited these remarks. Is it at all probable that, 
except in very rare instances, the ministers (however 
well disposed the audiences might be) could render 
such services any other than most wearisome ? It 
is just conceivable, indeed, that a man like Howe, 
distinguished by such exalted piety, by such rare 
qualifications as a preacher, and by a mind so singu- 
larly fertile and original, might sustain the attention 
of the more intelligent amongst his auditors, — 
making allowance, it may be, for a few oblivious 
moments ; but it is quite appalling to think of the 
tedium of such a service conducted by men (and 
there must have been many such) of no more than 
ordinary piety, and less than ordinary abilities. 
If, under such circumstances, their congregations 
did maintain their attention, all that can be said is, 
that there was at least one text of Scripture on 
which it would have been superfluous for the minis- 
ters to expatiate, — "Patience" must already have 
had its " perfect work." 



36 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



Even Calamy, a roan of the very next generation, 
confesses that the above service was one " which 
few could have gone through without inexpressible 
weariness, both to themselves and their auditors." 
Well might the preachers of that day be called 
"painful" preachers; and surely their auditors were 
hardly less entitled to be called so too. 

If it were desirable to spend so large a portion of 
any one day in public services, how easy was it to 
obviate all inconvenience ! Why not divide the 
service into two or three ? But here are seven un- 
broken hours of " preaching, prayer, and exposi- 
tion," with the exception of one brief fifteen minutes. 
That little pause, moreover, was allowed only to the 
minister; the congregation, it appears, were " sing- 
ing all the while I " 



CHAPTER III 



FROM 1656 TO 165S. 

howe's first interview with cromwell — ereaches at Whitehall — ■ 
ceoaiwell peoposes that he should become his chaplain — howe's 
reluctance — sceuples overcome — motives which actuated cromwell 
in the selection of howe — remarks ox the protector's probable 
motives — state of religious parties — letters of howe to baxter, 
published from the baxter mss. — howe's reluctance to continue at 
whitehall — grounds of it — maxxer ix which he coxducted himself 
during his coxxexiox with cromwell — ixstaxces of his disinterest - 
edxess, integrity, and benevolence — reflections. 

Howe was no longer to remain the pastor of an 
obscure country town. One of those trifling inci- 
dents, as men are wont to consider them, but on 
which Divine Providence seems to delight in suspend- 
ing the most important events, changed the whole 
tenor of his life, and placed him in a situation of 
peculiar difficulty and delicacy. At the close of 
1656, or in the beginning of 1657,* some important 
business brought him to London. On the last 
sabbath of his stay there, (and it is worthy of remark 

* The exact period cannot be ascertained. The first of the letters of 
Howe to Baxter, which will be found in this chapter, is dated March 12, 
1657 ; it shows that he was then Cromwell's chaplain, 



38 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



that he had been already detained beyond the period 
he had assigned for his return,) curiosity led him to 
the Chapel at Whitehall. The name of the preacher 
who attracted him thither is unknown. Cromwell 
was present ; and as "he generally had his eyes 
everywhere/' (to use an expression of Calamy's, not 
very complimentary to Oliver's devotion,) the noble 
and expressive physiognomy of Howe soon fell under 
his notice. Nor was this to be wondered at ; an 
observer of human nature, far less sagacious than 
Oliver Cromwell, might have discerned in the 
lineaments of Howe's face, the indications of no 
common character. 

As soon as service was concluded, a messenger 
was despatched, to inform Howe that the Protector 
desired to speak with him. If surprised at such an 
extraordinary summons, he must have been still 
more surprised to hear the Protector (who had already 
concluded from his appearance that he was a minister) 
request him to " preach at Whitehall Chapel on the 
following Lord's day." Howe, wmose modesty re- 
coiled from a proposal, which other and more 
ambitious men would have exulted to embrace, 
endeavoured to excuse himself. Cromwell, with that 
peremptoriness which ever characterized him, told 
him " that it was in vain to think of excusing him- 
self, for that he would take no denial." Howe, who 
did not know much of the arts of a courtier, and 
probably would have disdained to practise them, 
pleaded with much simplicity, that " he had des- 
patched all the matters which had brought him to 
London, that he was now anxious to return home, 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



39 



and that he could not be detained longer without 
serious inconvenience." u Why/' rejoined the perti- 
nacious Oliver, " what great injury are you likely to 
sustain by tarrying a little longer ?" To this Howe 
— who, in the spirit of a true pastor, considered the 
welfare of his flock far more important than the 
favour of the Protector, their esteem as his highest 
honour, and their love as his most grateful reward — 
replied, " that his people were very kind to him ; 
that they would be uneasy at his protracted absence ; 
that they would think he neglected them, and that 
he but little valued their esteem and affection." 
" Well," said Cromwell, "I will write to them my- 
self, and will undertake the task of procuring them 
a suitable substitute." This he actually did ; and 
Howe, being thus relieved from his scruples, or 
rather not knowing how to persist in opposing the 
wishes of one, whose requests, like those of kings, 
were little less than commands, consented to the 
Protector's proposal. But after he had preached 
once, Cromwell in the same manner insisted upon 
a second and a third sermon, and prevailed by the 
same pertinacity as before ; and at length, after 
much private conversation, told him, that 66 nothing 
would serve him but Howe must remove to London 
and become his domestic chaplain, and that he 
would take care that the people at Torrington should 
be supplied to their satisfaction." Howe exerted 
himself to the utmost to escape such an unwelcome 
honour; but Cromwell, who, as Calamy truly ob- 
serves, " could not bear to be contradicted after he 
had once got the power into his hands," would listen 



40 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



to no denial.* At length, therefore, Howe, who (as 
appears from a hitherto unpublished letter, which 
will be found in the following pages) was assured 
that he would have the means of doing great service 
to religion in the Protector's household, the whole 
arrangements of which were to be submitted to 
himself and a reverend colleague, f was induced to 
consent. He accordingly removed with his family 
to Whitehall, where some of his children were 
born. 

We might conclude, a priori, that if Howe had 
been at liberty to shape his own destiny, such a 
situation would not have been precisely the one he 
would have selected; and the curious correspond- 
ence to which reference is made above, proves it. 
Indeed, such a post, even under far more inviting 
circumstances, would never have been his choice ; for 
though he had practical talents, which eminently 

* Palmer, in his "Nonconformist's Memorial," differs somewhat from 
Calamy in the account he gives of the manner of Howe's first introduction 
to the Protector. He says that his name had been already mentioned to 
CrornwelL when he appeared at Whitehall Chapel, and that he came there 
by appointment. But the account in other respects bears on its front 
marks of improbability, which render it very questionable. Thus it repre- 
sents Howe, and the gentleman who mentioned his name to Cromwell, as at 
that time dividing the suffrages of the congregation at St. Saviour's, Dart- 
mouth. If so, one would think that Howe must have been at least in a 
condition to accept such a situation, since he would hardly have been pro- 
posed candidate against his known wishes. Yet at this period, so far as any 
evidence can be obtained, nothing could be farther from his thoughts than 
removing from Torrington, where he had been recently settled, and where 
he was exceedingly happy. On what authority Palmer's account rests, 
I know not. Some parts of the account Palmer had received were so im- 
probable, that I see he himself has suppressed them in his later editions. 
Calamy, from habits of personal intimacy with Howe, was more likely 
to know the truth. 

t Who this colleague was I know not. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



41 



fitted him for important public functions, all the 
strongest tendencies of his nature were in favour 
of contemplative retirement and quiet usefulness. 
Such a situation, however^ as that in which he now 
found himself, must for special reasons have been 
distasteful to him. The fanaticism which so strongly 
pervaded Oliver's court and household, must, as his 
conduct and his letters both testify, have been to 
the last degree repulsive to a mind so remarkably 
free from every tinge of enthusiasm, and so 
habitually under the dominion of judgment. Even 
the extravagances and eccentricities of manner, 
which marked so many of the religionists in the 
court of the Protector, must have excited strong 
disgust in one whose judgment was too sound and 
healthy not to dislike oddities of all kinds, but 
religious oddities above all others ; these last being 
not only offensive to taste, but injurious to piety. 
Little knowledge of human nature is requisite to 
convince us, that the severe sense of propriety, the 
dignity, the almost "majesty of manner, which all 
who knew Howe have concurred in attributing to 
him, must have been grievously offended at some of 
the scenes enacted in Oliver's household, and even in 
the Chapel at Whitehall. 

But this is not all. The office to which he was 
thus reluctantly promoted, must, for other and still 
more important reasons, have soon become, as his 
letters show, intolerably irksome, because it must 
have been eminently difficult to discharge it at once 
with that discretion which was requisite to secure 
his own safety, and that integrity which alone 



42 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



would satisfy his conscience. If Howe had been 
blind and unscrupulous partisan, who was prepared 
to concur with obsequious acquiescence in all that 
his patron and his patron's adherents might approve, 
and to purchase a character of devoted loyalty to 
one party, by a hatred and abuse of every other, his 
course, however degrading, would have been com- 
paratively plain. But so far from this, there is in- 
controvertible historic evidence (which will be imme- 
diately laid before the reader) that he never con- 
cealed his opinions, however adverse to those of his 
best friends ; that when he did not agree with Crom- 
well himself, he did not scruple to say so, and, (if he 
thought the occasion of sufficient importance to 
warrant it) to say so even in public ; and, lastly, 
that he never missed an opportunity of using his 
influence with the Protector and his government, in 
behalf of those who were opposed to both. That he 
did all this is well known ; but that he should have 
been able to do it, without compromising principle 
or incurring censure, without giving irretrievable 
offence by his honesty or exciting suspicions by 
his moderation, argues an extraordinary union of 
integrity and discretion. His success, however, 
seems to have been complete ; for not the faintest 
whisper of calumny has been breathed against him 
by any party. 

All further remarks on the manner in which Howe 
conducted himself in this arduous situation, will be 
postponed, until the curious letters, which he ad- 
dressed to Baxter during the period he remained at 
Whitehall, shall have been submitted to the reader. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



43 



In the mean time, some observations on the motives 
which might have induced Cromwell to select such 
a man as Howe for his chaplain, may not be thought 
irrelevant ; especially as they may enable the reader 
to form a more just idea of the peculiar arduous- 
ness and difficulty of the post Howe was now called 
to occupy. 

For Cromwell's selection of a man like Howe it 
may appear, at first, difficult to account. 

Of the character of the Protector it would be dif- 
ficult, even under the most favourable circumstances, 
to form a just estimate. The special pleading of 
]) art v- writers, who, by disguising or exaggerating 
facts, have obscured the very evidence on which a 
dispassionate opinion might be founded, has ren- 
dered it still more so. If we could believe the con- 
tradictory accounts of his admirers and enemies, we 
should alternately revere him as adorned with every 
virtue, and execrate him as disgraced with every 
crime. So singular has been his destiny, that his 
worst actions have found apologists ; his best, tra- 
ducers.* 

What, it may be asked, may have been Cromwell's 
motives in so pertinaciously insisting that Howe 
should be his chaplain ? 

There is one solution, indeed, of the mystery, 
which, if admitted, must be satisfactory enough ; it 
has been contended that Cromwell was a man of 
genuine piety. Those who adopt this opinion can, 
of course, have no difficulty in assigning adequate 
motives for his conduct on the present occasion. In 

* See Appendix, No. IV. 



44 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



their estimation, he would have been led purely, or, 
at all events, principally, by his spiritual sym- 
pathies ; he coveted the solace and edification 
which the conversation and discourses of such a 
man as Howe could not but afford him. This view, 
Howe's letters to Baxter, inserted in this chapter, 
though not inconsistent with it, will hardly tend 
to confirm. 

But whatever side men may take on this subject, 
we are not without a sufficient clue to the motives 
which might lead the Protector to select such a 
chaplain as John Howe. 

Not to mention the admiration which the noble 
intellectual and moral qualities of the man were cal- 
culated to inspire, — and very many of them Crom- 
well was capable of fully appreciating, — the posi- 
tion in which the Protector stood to the religious 
parties of the age, especially in the latter period of 
his life, demanded that he should have at least some 
such individuals in his court and household ; and 
if he had found twenty of equal piety, prudence, and 
reputation, he might have rendered them all sub- 
servient, not only to the stability of his government, 
but to the welfare of the country. Precisely the 
same motives which impelled him to make the in- 
flexible Hale one of his judges, and Milton one of 
his secretaries, would lead him to make such a 
man as Howe one of his chaplains. Of the many 
proofs of astonishing sagacity which Cromwell dis- 
played, none is more striking than his happy selec- 
tion of public functionaries. " In nothing," justly 
observes Bishop Burnet, " was his good understand- 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



45 



ing better discovered than in seeking out able and 
worthy men for all employments." Whatever lati- 
tude and licence he might occasionally allow himself, 
he was far too sagacious not to perceive that the 
more upright, impartial, and discreet, were the 
instruments by which he carried on his administra- 
tion, and the greater the reputation for piety, for 
integrity, or for talents, they enjoyed, — the more 
stable w r ould be his government and the more impe- 
rishable his renown, because both would so far be 
identified with the prosperity and glory of a grateful 
and exulting nation. The event has justified his 
sagacity. The general splendour of his administra- 
tion has half obliterated, in ten thousand minds, the 
remembrance of his more questionable deeds. But 
his reasons for the choice of such a man as Howe, 
will more fully appear, if we consider the peculiar 
position in which the Protector stood to the religious 
factions of the age. 

In the great convulsions which preceded the 
establishment of the Commonwealth, and in which 
the whole social and religious system seemed 
resolved back into its original elements, it re- 
quired no great sagacity to " prognosticate " what 
Milton calls " an era of sects and schisms." The 
tremendous excitement which those stupendous 
events produced would alone account for such a 
result, We might from the history of all such 
periods be assured, that there would be no lack 
of system-mongers and theorists of every kind. The 
usual enthusiasm, too, which distinguishes periods of 
revolution, was the deeper and more extravagant, 



46 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



that it sprang immediately from religion— of all 
impulses the most powerful. 

Nor was this the only cause of this strange fecun- 
dity of u sects and schisms : " the principles of tole- 
ration were now for the first time in extensive ope- 
ration. 

The liberty of opinion, like every other privilege, 
might of course be expected to be most abused when 
first enjoyed.* Accordingly, in the age of Crom- 
well, there were to be found religious parties of 
every conceivable variety of opinion. Not only 
were there those great and powerful bodies, consti- 
tuting the bulk of the people, which still worshipped, 
as ardently as ever, their idol of " uniformity," and 
were only waiting for an opportunity of re-imposing 
the yoke which the nation had shaken off ; but num- 
berless others which (though it might be inconsis- 
tent with their principles or impossible from their 
insignificance and numerical weakness, to cherish 
any such ambitious designs) eyed each other with 
mutual jealousy, and struggled for precedence at 
court or for influence in the army. It was said of 
Athens, that you might walk through her streets, 
and more readily find gods than men : it might be 
said of the latter years of the Commonwealth, that 
there were almost as many sects as worshippers. 
There were those who were separated by the widest 
extremes, and those who differed only by the most 
invisible shades of opinion ; those who stood u far as 

* It is an axiom now with Englishmen, that whatever the wild forms of 
error to which freedom of opinion may give rise, it is a privilege, the ad- 
vantages of^ which no such evils can ever countervail. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



47 



the poles asunder/' and those who disputed with a 
still fiercer animosity about some inconsiderable 
point of ceremonial. From the Papists, who clung 
to every particle of ancient error, to the Seekers, 
who, relinquishing Scripture itself, wandered about, 
like the ancient Jews, " without ephod and without 
teraphim, without altar and without temple," having, 
as their name imported, all to find ; — from those 
who brought their illuminations fresh every day 
from the seventh heavens, to those who still paid 
the most credulous and timid deference to tradition 
and antiquity; — from those who had been inspired 
with such plenary light as to dispense with all mora- 
lity, and with whom, as they perversely expressed it, 
"all things were pure," to those who practised the 
most rigid austerities, there might be found every 
variety and gradation of religious opinion. Some 
would hear of nothing but an "inward light;' 9 
others clung, with all the tenacity of the ancient 
Jews, to " carnal ordinances and a worldly sanc- 
tuary ; " here were sects all rapture and ecstasy, and 
there others all austerity and decorum ; while some, 
just rising into notice, united, by a peculiar affinity 
for absurdities, the profound nonsense of the mystic 
with the solemn precision of the Pharisee. Here 
was one pouring out unintelligible rhapsodies ; 
and there another waiting in more grateful silence 
the illapses of inspiration. There were some so 
spiritual, that the fine essence of their piety re- 
mained intact amidst the grossest immoralities ; and 
there were others, to whom cheerful looks and an 
innocent jest were as any of the deadly sins. I say 



48 



LIFE OP HOWE. 



nothing of the still more astounding, though, hap- 
pily, more rare species of religious extravagance ; of 
Behmenists snuffing after " angels," and fighting 
with " fiery dragons ; " or of naked prophets running 
through the streets, and most truly representing 
themselves as " signs and wonders." 

Nor were the controversies on the subject of 
church government and discipline less various or 
edifying, than those which respected doctrine and 
practice. While some would have " all the Lord's 
people prophets," others would have no ministry at 
all : here was a party who would divest religion of 
everything external, and there another, who ,would 
make it entirely a matter of ceremony. Religion 
in one was a disembodied spirit, so purified and defe- 
cated, as no longer to need the aids of external 
worship ; and in another, so gross and sensual, as to 
live only amidst outward observances. 

Some, again, woulcl intrust the magistrate with 
the " power of the keys," and others would clothe 
the priesthood with secular authority. While many 
were for stripping Caesar even of his rightful purple, 
others were for throwing over it the sacerdotal vest. 
In not a few instances, the most opposite parties 
arrived at an edifying unanimity in errors ; and, as 
if to prove that extremes meet, fifth-monarchy men 
proclaimed that " all dominion is founded in grace," 
as vehemently as Papists demanded for the Arch- 
pontiff the homage of the world.* 

* An amusing account of the principal sects of the age, though in some 
points, doubtless, exaggerated, will be found in Baxter's Life and Times. 
The inferior sects would, it se«ms, defy all classification. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



49 



It is quite true that many of these sects were incon- 
siderable in point of numbers ; while some of the 
wilder religious obliquities which characterized the 
day, were confined to a few individuals, and even 
expired with their authors. Nor is it improbable 
that, if we were to make due search in holes and 
corners, we might even now hunt out as many sects, 
and tatters of sects, as could be found at any period 
of the Commonwealth. But the difference between 
those times and our own is this ; that the religious 
extravagancies, which at the former period stalked 
abroad at mid-day and in the open streets, now, for 
the most part, dwell in obscurity and silence ; and 
that while, in modern times, one monstrous folly 
suffices for one generation,* they sprang up in that 
age like mushrooms. Nor, if enthusiasm had not 
taken a far deeper and more general hold on the 
public mind than at any other period of our history, 
would even individual extravagancies have mani- 
fested themselves in the same way. It will be long, 
it is to be hoped, in the present day, before we shall 
see naked prophets running about the streets, or 
inspired women breaking trenchers in the face of 
parliament, " as a sign and testimony." 

Though the various religious parties of the day 
must, in some measure, have neutralized each other's 
influence ; their mutual jealousies, fierce disputes, 
and in many instances extravagant pretensions, 
must have given the Protector no little trouble. 
Indeed it' may be safely said, that none but him- 
self could have controlled and managed them ; espe- 

* For example ; the heresies of Regent's Square (1831). 



50 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



cially when we take into consideration the fact 
already stated, that there were large and powerful 
parties waiting only for an opportunity to re-assert 
their supremacy. Nor is it to be forgotten, that 
there were amongst these sects designing hypocrites, 
who, caring for no form of religion, and making their 
advantage of all, were not scrupulous by what means 
they promoted the objects of their ambition ; while 
others, no better than heathens in their hearts, and 
smiling in secret contempt at all the religious extra- 
vagancies of the age,* sighed after a republic on the 
old Roman model, and consequently exulted in any 
discontents which might increase the perplexities or 
shake the government of the great usurper. As long 
as Cromwell retained the supreme power, he, they 
well knew, would frustrate every attempt to realize 
their visionary schemes. 

Such was the conflict of opinion and interest 
amidst which the proud structure of the Common- 
wealth was reared ; and we may well w r onder that 
its builders, like those of Babel, were not compelled 
to abandon their design long before its completion ; 
and to abandon it from the same cause — the confu- 
sion of tongues. 

When we reflect on the discordant elements which 
Cromwell was compelled to render, not only con- 
sistent with his safety, but subservient to his power, 
exiled royalty itself need not have envied the Pro- 
tector of England his unstable throne. Of his 
empire, that of iEolus itself was only an expressive 

* See a remarkable passage in a letter of Howe to Baxter, inserted in the 
next chapter. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



51 



type. The manner in which he controlled those 
tempestuous elements, and even when almost uni- 
versally distrusted and hated, maintained his supre- 
macy unimpaired, strikes us with awe and wonder. 
Such achievements, though less dazzling to the eye, 
afford a far more conclusive proof of the vigour of 
his intellect, than the most renowned exploits of his 
arms. To poise and balance himself amidst so many 
disturbing forces, to make anarchy itself do fealty 
and homage at his throne, required a sagacity and 
dexterity to which history scarcely presents a parallel. 

The main object of Cromwell's policy was to 
allow ascendancy to none of the many religious 
parties by which he was surrounded; but, at the 
same time, the amplest liberty — compatible with 
the maintenance of his power — to all. This was 
evidently his best policy, even if he had not been 
inclined to pursue it : to do him justice, however, 
(and this, indeed, constitutes the glory of his govern- 
ment,) his wishes in this respect fully coincided 
with his interests. He was, as Baxter himself ad- 
mits, in a letter first published in this volume, a 
man "noted for a catholic spirit, desirous of the 
peace and unity of all the servants of Christ." * To 
maintain this difficult policy of conciliation, his 
sagacity would instantly perceive, that he must not 
only have a variety of instruments, but select those 
instruments with the utmost care. In his transac- 
tions with such men as those who composed Baxter's 
party, for instance, he would naturally feel that 

* See the same sentiments still more strongly expressed in Baxter's Life 
and Times, in his last and revised judgment of Cromwell's character. 

D 2 



52 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



those whom he employed must be men above sus- 
picion. Distrusted himself, they, at all events, must 
be capable of inspiring confidence ; and, as they 
would have to do with so many discordant parties, 
it was requisite that they should often be men 
distinguished no less by moderation than by 
integrity. 

Could it escape the penetration of Cromwell, that 
considerable advantages might be derived from a 
man of Howe's integrity, temper, discretion, and, 
above all, imsullied reputation amongst all parties ? 
That he was frequently employed in important 
missions by Cromwell, is mentioned by Calamy ;* 
and that men like Baxter gladly availed themselves 
of such a means of communicating to the Protector 
their thoughts on public measures connected with 
religion, is evident from the documents inserted in 
this chapter. 

Before proceeding to give any further account of 
Howe's conduct during the period of his residence 



* "Whilst he continued in Cromwell's family he was often put upon 
secret services ; but they were always honourable, and such as, according 
to the best of his judgment, might be to the benefit either of the public, or 
of particular persons. And when he was once engaged, he used all the 
diligence, and secrecy, and despatch he was able. Once, particularly, I 
have been informed, he was sent by Oliver in haste, upon a certain occasion, 
to Oxford, to a meeting of ministers there ; and he made such despatch, 
that though he rode by St. Giles's church at twelve o'clock, he arrived at 
Oxford by a quarter after five. In short, he so behaved himself in this 
station, that he had the ill-will of as few as any man, and the particular 
friendship of the great Dr. Wilkins, who was afterwards Bishop of Chester, 
and several others, who were great supports of real piety and goodness in 
those times, and afterwards eminent under the legal establishment." — 
Calamy, p. 24, 25. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



53 



at Whitehall, I shall lay before the reader the letters 
he addressed to Baxter from that place ; as well as 
one from Baxter to him. The originals may be 
seen among the Baxter MSS., at the library in 
Redcross-street. * 

The passages on which some of the previous 
remarks have been founded, and which may call for 
further observation at a subsequent page, will, in 
order to prevent the necessity of repeated citation, 
be printed in italics. 

The first of these letters is dated, " Whitehall, 
March 12, 57," and must have been written a very 
few mon tl is, perhaps weeks, after Howe's arrival 
there. It is full of the modesty and courtesy 
which were characteristic of him. It also shows the 
high estimation in which he held the character of 
Baxter, to whom such an epistle, from such a man, 
must have been not a little gratifying. 

"TO THE REV. RICHARD BAXTER, KIDDERMINSTER. 

"Reverend and worthily honoured Sir, 

" I should have been at some uncertainty, whether it 
were not more proper for me to make an apology for my forbear- 
ing the civility of such a paper salutation to you all this while, 
or [for] giving you the trouble of it now, had I not suffered 
myself to be determined by the direction of my honoured 

* As my distance from London prevented my collating the proofs of these 
letters in the former edition, with the original MSS. , a few verbal errors of 
the copy (which had been hastily made) were retained. These a recent 
inspection of the MSS. has enabled me to correct. Here and there I have 
found it difficult to decipher a word, and I have been obliged to give it 
conjecturally. In the present edition I have adopted the modern ortho- 
graphy, and for perspicuity's sake have printed the contracted forms of 
certain words in full. 



54 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



friend, the bearer. I have been often prompted to what I am 
now doing, by a deep sense of obligation, and an almost 
passionate desire of some communication with you ; but my 
resolutions (even after I have put pen to paper and drawn 
out my mind into many lines) have been checked by a fear, 
lest I should be troublesome whilst I would appear thankful, 
and lest my desire of advantage to myself might seduce me 
into an attempt, either in itself unseemly, (as the affectation 
of so unequal an acquaintance might well be thought,) or 
ungrateful to you, whose constant employments I can easily 
think to be such as will not allow you to hold a corres- 
pondence with any one whose interest it may be to desire and 
seek it. Only that which with me made the balance more 
fairly to turn that way 'tis now cast, was the experience I 
had (and my obligation thereby, as well as encouragement) of 
your great friendship some years since, when, upon a journey, 
the providence of God afforded the opportunity of seeing you 
at Kidderminster, which, though I might well suppose you 
not to remember it, I ought not to forget. 

u And truly, Sir, if that had not been, yet such advantage 
have your public labours (as I must ever acknowledge) afforded 
me, both in directing my thoughts in some important doc- 
trines of the gospel, when I was much fluctuating, and not 
able with any satisfaction to acquiesce in the common 
dictates of modern writers, as also, through the mercy of God, 
in further awakening and quickening my heart in minding 
the concernments of another world ; and such have your 
endearments been to me thereby, that I could not, without 
offering violence to myself, (as in a measure I have for some 
years,) have forborne to tell you how much I owe you upon 
that account. 

" And, Sir, my heart's desire and prayer is, that your Lord 
would long continue and succeed your labours to the good of 
his church, and that the great acceptance they have found, 
and the visible blessing that hath attended them, may so far 
outweigh the discouragements you may have received from 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



55 



the opposition of prejudiced minds, that they may not prevail 
with you to desert any cause of God you have undertaken to 
plead for. And, indeed, Sir, it is my strong persuasion, that # 
if your long expected new edition of your ' Aphorisms ' may 
at length see the light, with what you have prepared about 
universal redemption, the entertainment they will find with 
this next generation, when they shall meet with unforestalled 
judgments, at liberty to receive things according to their 
evidence ; and the influence those principles will have into 
preaching of the gospel, — which, according to the divinity 
that hath of late generally obtained, I know not how any 
could preach consistently, and without hesitance and regret, 
which cannot also, as we know by experience, but be derived 
into the minds of hearers, and so make at last but halting and 
unsettled Christians, and divert many from ever being such in 
truth, — will be such as will greatly overbalance the evil that 
may be occasioned by some men's present impatient reception 
of them. And however about redemption, Davenant and 
Amyrald may have spoken many of your thoughts, yet their 
books do not so commonly fall into the hands of young 
scholars (whose minds, while such, are least prepossessed, almost 
' rasa tabula ? ) as yours are like to do. I rejoice to hear 
what you are doing about confirmation ; I doubt not but it 
will be a welcome endeavour to many that easily see the con- 
venience, but understand not the warrant of such a course ; 
and am much confident that if that practice shall appear to 
have as clearly a necessitous prcecepti as medii* to enforce it, the 

* This, I apprehend, is explained in the foregoing sentence. I presume 
he means, that if confirmation could be as clearly shown to be a duty en- 
joined in the word of God, as he deemed it to be useful and convenient, the 
practice would soon become general. Further light is thrown upon this 
passage by the reasons which Baxter himself assigns for writing the work. 
"Many," says he, " called on me to try whether some more Scripture proofs 
might not be brought for it, that the preceptive as well as the mediate neces- 
sity might appear." It is proper to add, that this work is not intended to 
be, as many readers of the title would imagine, a defence of any special mode 
of confirmation, but of the principle on wdiich some such rite is professedly 



56 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



latter is so clear that we may hope it to obtain generally in a 
short time. 

" Sir, I presume upon your pardon for this trouble. I shall 
only add to it thus much. I perceive you have understood, 
by my uncle,* where my present station is.f If you can 
think it worth your while, I should be exceeding desirous to 
hear from you, what you apprehend to be the main evils } of 
the nation that you judge capable of redress by the present 
Government ? — what you conceive one in my station obliged to 
urge upon them as matter of duty in reference to the present state 
of the nation ? — and hoio far you conceive such a one obliged to 
bear a public testimony, against their neglects, in preaching,^ 
after use of private endeavours ; supposing that either they be not 
convinced that the things persuaded to are duties to them, or else, 
if they be, that it be from time to time pretended that other affairs 
of greater moment are before them for the present ; tvhich being 
secret to themselves, as I cannot certainly know that they are so, 
so nor can I deny bat they may be. Sir, the Lord hioivs I 
desire to understand my duty in matters of this nature ; I hope 
he will then give me a heart not to decline it : \\ and if you will 
please to contribute your help hereto, it may possibly be of 
public use ; and will certainly (though that signify little) be 

founded ; that all who are baptized in infancy should make a public profes- 
sion of religion when they arrive at years of discretion, and that unless such 
profession be deemed satisfactory, they should not be admitted to the privi- 
leges of church membership. 

* Mr. Upton, mentioned in Baxter's reply. 

t At Whitehall. 

t With respect, of course, to the state of religion. 

§ Howe, no doubt, soon began to find, that the office of chaplain to Oliver 
and his household would be no sinecure to a conscientious man, who, like 
himself, could not wink at what he deemed inconsistencies of conduct or 
omissions of duty. He, at least, was in earnest — more so, probably, than 
his patron could wish. Had he simply lent his talents and his character to 
aid Cromwell's designs, and, while supporting his public influence, shut his 
eyes to the state of things at home, the Protector would probably have been 
quite satisfied. 

II This part of Howe's letter is highly creditable to him. It is a noble 
exhibition of conscientiousness and integrity. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



57 



exceeding acceptable and obliging to hiin, who must profess 
and subscribe himself, 

" Eev. Sir, 
" An affectionate honourer of you, 
and your labours, 

" John Howe. 

" Whitehall, March 12, 57." 

The reply to this, the only letter of Baxter's in 
this correspondence which I have been able to 
recover, is dated April 3, 1658; seemingly, more 
than a year after the receipt of Howe's letter, 
unless, indeed, we may suppose the discrepancy 
accounted for by a reference to the old style of dating 
letters.* The contents, however, show that it was 
really a reply, and that no letter had passed in the 
mean time, whether the interval be longer or shorter. 
Baxter, at the commencement of the letter, admits, 
and apologizes for, his long silence. When we con- 
sider the multiplicity and magnitude of his labours, 
the wonder is, that he should have found time for 
any epistolary correspondence at all,j" 

* Nor does there seem any reason to doubt, that this is the true way of 
accounting for the apparently long interval between Howe's first letter and 
Baxter's reply. At this period, and up to 1753, there were two methods of 
computing the commencement of the year. The historical year began 1st 
of January ; the civil, ecclesiastical, and legal year on the 25th of March. 
Supposing Howe and Baxter to use the latter method, as they very probably 
would, Howe's first letter, dated March 12, would have been written in 1657, 
and Baxter's reply, dated April 3, 1658, as truly in 1658, though little more 
than three weeks, instead of somewhat more than a twelvemonth, had 
elapsed between them. 

t Yet, from the immense mass of letters (and but a small portion of his 
correspondence can have been preserved after all) in the Baxter MSS. — 
most of them, by the by, on controversial subjects, and many of them as 
large as a modern pamphlet — one would think that letter- writing was this 
great man's sole employment. That he could manage, amidst it all, to 

D 3 



58 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



This letter — which is, in many respects, very- 
characteristic of the writer — is now subjoined : 

"TO THE REV. JOHN HOWE. 

" Bear Brother, 

" Upon this first opportunity, (though long after,) 
I return 3^011 thanks for your visit at Kidderminster, and 
another thanks for your kind and acceptable letters. You'll 
pardon me the omission of all compliments. Your famed 
worth, with your advantageous station for a serviceableness 
to these churches, doth make me very ready and glad of a 
correspondence with you. As to the subject of your letters, 
1°, The cause of the delay of the (appearance) of my 
1 Aphorisms ' hath been, that I thought totally to suppress 
them, and publish a small body of Theology in its stead ; but 
multitudes of pressing businesses have so oft and long 
diverted me from so great a work, (begun,) that I am 
changing my thoughts, upon a despair of leisure. My pages 
of ' Redemption' have long lain by me ; but I suppress them 
for Peace.* 2°, I would have you very tender and cautelous f 
in publishing any of the neglects of governors. A time there 
is for open plain dealing ; but as long as the case is not 
palpable, desperate, and notorious, and you have leave to 
speak privately, that may suffice you. The welfare of the 

compose his eight score and eight publications, many of them quartos, 
besides prefaces and commendatory introductions innumerable, is a miracle 
of industry, which might well astonish even his voluminous contemporaries, 
and which will continue to puzzle a degenerate posterity. 

* Printed Pearse in the former edition. I imagined it might refer to some 
expected piece of Dr. Thomas Pierce, or Peirce, (for the name is spelt in 
various ways,) one of the most vigorous of the innumerable opponents, with 
one or other of whom this Ishmael amongst controvertists was perpetually 
engaged. But on looking more carefully at the MS. , I think the present is 
the most probable reading. 

f This illustrates the old adage, that " those who look on see better than 
those who are engaged in the game ; " for Baxter was not always quite so 
" cautelous" as he here recommends his friend to be. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



59 



church, and peace of the nations, lies much on the public 
reputation of good magistrates, which, therefore, we should 
not diminish, but promote. 3°, / would awaken your jealousy 
to a careful {but very secret and silent) observance of the infidels 
and Papists, who are very high and busy, under several garbs, 
especially of Seekers, Vanists, Behmenists. Should they infest 

oar vitals, or get into the saddle, where are we then ? 

4°, The Lord Protector is noted as a man of a catholic spirit, 
desirous of the unity and peace of all the servants of Christ. 
We desire nothing in the world (at home) so much as the 
exercise and success of such a disposition : but more is to be 
done for union and peace. Would he but, 1°, take some 
healing principles into his own consideration ; 2°,, and, when 
he is satisfied in them, expose them to one or two leading 
men of each party, (Episcopalian, Presbyterian, Congrega- 
tional, Erastian, Anabaptist,) and privately feel them, and 
get them to a consent ; * 3°, and then let them be printed, to 
see how they will relish, (with the reasons annexed ;) 4°, and 
then let a free-chosen assembly be called to agree upon them, 
— he would exceedingly oblige, and endear all the nations to 
him ; and I am confident as I live, that, (by (rod's blessing,) 
he may happily accomplish so much of this work, if he be 
willing, as shall settle us in much peace, and prevent and 
heal abundance of our distempers : for, 1°, I dare undertake 
to produce such principles as may do it ; 2°, and his interest 
(supposing our general preparation, by a weariness of divi- 
sions) may well bring them (as far as aforesaid) into 
association. 

"Because Mr. Upton told me that you desired a corres- 
pondence with me, in order to this business, (and nothing in 

* " Comprehension," was Baxter's favourite and long- cherished project. 
His temperament, we know, was sanguine. If we had no other proof, how- 
ever, the above passage would be sufficient. What else could sustain the 
hope, that, in the then circumstances of the nation, these heterogeneous 
parties could be made to coalesce ? by what spiritual alchemy did he expect 
to effect it ? 



60 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



the world belonging to these nations sits nearer my heart,) I 
have adventured to inclose these three pages,* which will 
acquaint you with the healing principles, though a more 
exact digesting and wording of them is necessary. One was 
intended for some Parliament men, for their satisfaction, but 
never showed them. Another was in answer to a reverend 
brother near you, who, being asked by me to write down all 
that he judged of necessity for the Presbyterians to grant to 
the Congregational party for unity sake, did write down only 
the words mentioned in Micah vi. 8. So that we are fully 
agreed if men be willing ; (and yet more may be done.) 
The third is a form of agreement to be subscribed by associa- 
tions of godly men, of different judgments ; containing so 
few things and plain, as all may agree in that are fit for our 
communion. Somewhat more I shall venture to say -to the 
rulers in my treatise of confirmation, if God will, which is 
about a fortnight ago finished. It's a fearful case, that godly 
ministers should be so bad that all this ado should be neces- 
sary to our healing, and all will not do without the magis- 
trate. The Lord require not this at our hands. I have pro- 
posed nothing but what I am confident all parties may yield 
to, without crossing their principles, if they will. Sir, I 
commit these things to your consideration, remaining 

" Your unworthjr Brother, 

"Ri. Baxter. 

"AprilS, 1658." 
• 

" I pray you persuade men not to despise those they call 
Poyalists and Episcopalians, either because they are now 
under them, or because of contrariety of worldly interests ; 
for these things signify less than carnal hearts imagine : and 

* This was one of several proposals for a "comprehension," which Baxter, 
at different periods, laid before the Protector's chaplains. Some remarks on 
these, his praiseworthy, though, under the circumstances, futile efforts, will 
be found at a subsequent page. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



61 



who knows what a day (and a righteous God) may bring 
forth ?"'* 

The next letter of Howe's is dated Whitehall; 
April 13, 1658, and is almost wholly taken up with 
the proposed plan for " comprehension," mentioned 
at the close of Baxter's letter. 

" TO THE REV. RICHARD EAXTER. 

" Reverend Sir, 

" I have with much gladness and satisfaction re- 
ceived and perused your treatise, with the inclosed papers. 
I dare not further press the first thing I mentioned in my 
former, f And do most heartily thank you for your advice 
as to the second. J That which you next mention hath been 
much in my fears, § and the next to that (which your papers 
have referred to) as much in my desires, |j since I came to 
have any understanding and consideration of the public 
affairs of the church of Christ. As to this last, but a few 
days before yours came to my hands (upon occasion of the 
presentation of the articles of the Essex association to his 
Highness, in order to the obtaining an approbation from 
him,) and his committing yours to my perusal, I made such a 
motion to him that he would please once for all to invite by 
some public declaration, the godly ministers of the several 
counties and of several parties, to the work of associating 

* This postscript indicates the high opinion Baxter entertained of the 
moderation and liberality of his correspondent. To what other member of 
Oliver's household would he have thought it worth while to prefer such a 
request as this ? 

t The reader will recollect that Howe had urged on Baxter a republica- 
tion of his "Aphorisms." 

X That is, as to the conduct he should pursue with respect to the before- 
mentioned "neglects of governors." 

§ The movements of the several religious parties, which Baxter in the 
preceding letter advises him so narrowly to watch. 

|| He alludes to the last topic of Baxter's letter, " comprehension." 



62 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



"upon such, common principles as might be found tending to 
general good, and not cross to the private opinions of the 
several parties ; which was a thing the Essex articles pre- 
tended to, but, to my apprehension, did not attain. He 
expressed a great willingness thereto, might he but see any- 
thing in writing, that upon consideration he coidd judge 
likely to serve such a purpose. Your papers I reckon came 
very seasonably upon that account. Only before I offer any 
of them to his view, I thought it meet to advise with you. 
1°, whether it may not be a more hopeful course to attempt 
first the reconciling only of the two middle parties, Presby- 
terian and Congregational ? inasmuch as the extreme parties 
would be so much startled at the mention of an union with, 
one another (as Anabaptists with Episcopalians, yea, or with 
Presbyterians) that it might possibly blast the design in its 
very beginning : but if those two other parties could be 
brought together first, endeavours might afterwards be used 
for drawing in the rest (probably with more success) ; and 
therefore whether accordingly it were not best to present to 
his Highness only what might serve that end ?* 2°, Whether 
it were not very expedient that you did (ere anything be 
further done) drive the business to an issue with that 
reverend person you have been treating with, that, if he be 
satisfied, his concurrence herein may be obtained, and help 
in presenting and explicating things to his Highness for his 
satisfaction ; because if he be a person of interest with his 
Highness, (as I guess him to be,) it is likely he will be con- 
sulted with, at least will hear something about the business 

* This letter strikingly exhibits certain points of difference between Howe 
and Baxter. Both possessed a large and catholic spirit ; both pursued with 
equal ardour the welfare of the Christian church : but Howe united with all 
this a coolness of judgment, a discreet and cautious spirit, which could not 
consist with the sanguine temperament of Baxter, and which are indeed 
rarely conjoined with so much integrity and so much benevolence as Howe 
possessed. He saw at once the hopelessness of the scheme as proposed by 
Baxter, but had the object too sincerely at heart to abandon the attempt 
altogether. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



63 



before it comes into act, and so might possibly (being un- 
satisfied) binder what otherwise he might greatly help.* 
Sir, out of a real fear, lest so excellent a work should be 
spoiled in the managing, I shall wait to hear further from 
you about these things, and in the meantime, remain, 

" Sir, 

" Yours in sincere affection and observance, 

"Johx Howe. 

" Whitehall, April 13, 1658. 

" Sir, be pleased to underwrite to your subscription of 
future letters thus : — To be left with Mr. Edward Raddon, at 
the letter- office, in the Poultry, to be conveyed/' &c.f 

In the next letter, dated, May 8, 1658, we find 
Howe still on the same subject. 

"TO THE REVEREND RICHARD BAXTER. 

"Reverend and dear Sir, 

" The occasion of my so long silence hath been the 
difficulty of Mr. Nye's and my meeting together ; he having 
been at sometimes out of town, and myself at others, ever 
since yours came to my hands, until Monday last, when 
I had the opportunity of some discourse with him, which I 
purposed to have given you an account of by the Thursday's 

* In this part of his letter Howe shows not only his discretion, but his 
superiority to mean and petty jealousies. The "reverend person" to whom 
he alludes, was, as it appears by the subsequent letters, Mr. Nye. Howe 
was willing to relinquish the honour of being the sole or even the principal 
party intrusted with the management of this affair. So that the thing were 
done, he cared not by whom. 

f What might be Howe's motives for requesting his correspondent (whose 
previous letters were directed to Whitehall) to send his communications by 
this circuitous route, it is in vain to inquire. One might conjecture that 
possibly some persons, jealous of his correspondence with Baxter, and 
thinking that it might be as well to learn what was its import, had been 
tampering with the seal of former letters. 



64 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



post, but the (to me) sudden news of a fast to be kept here 
next day, diverted me. 

"I judged it necessary to treat with him about what we 
have in hand, as easily foreseeing so public a business 
of that nature was not likely to be brought to pass but 
he would either be consulted with (which I thought most 
probable) or at least would some way hear of it, and if he 
disliked, hinder it. Two of your papers he perused, that you 
sent up last, and that which is drawn into the form of an 
agreement. In your letter he disliked what you lay down, 
or rather what he thinks you intend, as descriptive of visible 
believers, namely, a credible profession of faith and holiness ; 
and said he was confident you intended by profession, some- 
thing in opposition to such a deeper discovery as he should 
think necessary, and that there would never be an agree- 
ment about that matter. Also he expressed a dislike (much 
according to what you intimated in your last) of an associa- 
tion so formed by a covenant or engagement to such and such 
practices ; for he said, such things as you therein engage to 
practise, were either duties before or not ; if they were, 'tis 
unnecessary ; if not, he was born free, and why should he 
come under bonds ? fearing (as he said) a reproachful ejec- 
tion out of such communion, if there should not be a com- 
pliance in all things. To which my thoughts were that it 
was no unnecessary thing to engage to what was duty before, 
except all renewing of our covenant with God were unneces- 
sary ; and for his fear, etc., I propounded that this might be 
put into the agreement, that no person should be liable to 
ejection for any such principles or practices, as he or any 
were known to be of at their admission. In fine, he pro- 
fessed a willingness to promote an Association, to be founded 
only on the fourth article of your practical agreement, and 
that all differences and further overtures for agreement be 
left unto debate after such an association should be entered, 
and that he could yield so far, in order to accommodation, 
as was expressed in a paper presented to the committee for 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



65 



accommodation of Lords and Commons. Which paper he 
said you knew, and desired me to inquire of your thoughts 
concerning it. The paper you will find at the thirtieth page 
of the last part of that book, entitled " The Grand Debate," 
if you have it by you. I desired him to give his sense of the 
whole business in writing, lest I should misrepresent him, but 
that I could not obtain. But I think this is a true sum of 
what I had from him, 

"Sir, I shall wait for your further directions, only my 
present thoughts are, that if his offered help be accepted for 
procuring of such a general association as was before men- 
tioned, the other practicals in your paper will be found (as 
to the main of each) of so evident necessity, that they will, 
by recommendation, easily obtain throughout the whole. 
More I have not to add but that I am, Sir, 

" Yours most affectionately, 

"John Howe. 

" May 6th, 58. 

" To my reverend friend, 
" Mr. Richard Baxter, 

"Minister of the Gospel, Kidderminster." 

On the two last letters, I have to make a few 
remarks. If the representation given in a preceding 
page, of the state of religious parties be correct, it 
seems wonderful that men like Baxter and Howe 
should have laboured in the hopeless attempt at 
uniting even the principal of them. But " compre- 
hension," as it was called, or an union of all the 
considerable parties of the church, based on the 
admission of the fundamental doctrines of Christi- 
anity, had been, for many years, a darling scheme 
of Baxter's. Though this great man loved his pre- 
judices much, it is but just to say, that he loved 



66 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



charity and peace still more. Howe was a man of 
a spirit yet more catholic. Provided liberty of 
conscience in indifferent matters were insured to 
each party, he would have freely held communion 
with all who did not deny the essential doctrines of 
the gospel. 

Such a u comprehension," or rather " inter-com- 
munion/' between both ministers and people of dif- 
ferent denominations, is what the church of Christ 
sighs for. It would prove her members to be 
truly one, far more conclusively than could the 
exactest external uniformity; for such an union 
would carry the evidence of its reality with it. 
Unlike those kinds of union which have hitherto 
contented the Christian church, it would not depend 
on party-prejudices, but exist in defiance of them. 
To feel ourselves one with those who differ from us, 
requires and proves the existence of an ardent 
charity: to be one with our own party, demon- 
strates, at best, only our participation in the opinions 
of others, and frequently no more than a participa- 
tion in their prejudices. 

Such an union as that for which Baxter and Howe 
panted, awaits the gradual growth of a more expan- 
sive spirit of charity throughout the Christian 
church : it must be the effect of love, but cannot 
precede it. In the time of the Commonwealth, the 
animosities between religious parties were evidently 
far too strong to admit any hope of attaining this 
object ; nor is the period yet arrived at which any 
such sublime theory can be realized. 

The present letters, however, serve to show, with 



LITE OF HOWE. 



67 



what singde-niinded purpose, with what exalted 
charity, these great men laboured in this thankless 
office.* 

But to return to the corresDondence. 

i 

* I do not know any part of the volume in which I can more appropriately 
introduce the following document of Howe which I found, in his own hand- 
writing, amongst the Baxter MS 8. It appears to have been the copy of 
some paper, drawn up by him at the command of the Protector, during his 
residence at Whitehall, The latter part of it is deeply interesting, and 
shows that he had lost nothing of that healing and peaceful spirit which 
induced him. when at Torrington, to form a " settled meeting 5 ' of the 
ministers of different persuasions, and which animates the preceding letters 
on the subject of a '"comprehension." 

* ■ That it must be acknowledged, God hath blessed this nation with great 
plenty and liberty of gospel preaching beyond what it hath enjoyed in 
former times. 

* ' That it is yet to be observed and lamented, that the gospel hath not a 
success pruportionable thereto. 

1 ' That a more general conversion of souls throughout the land cannot but 



be a thing most desirable to every upright and honest heart, both as a pledge 
of God's continued presence among us, and as the great end (as it is to be 
hoped) of all the salvations he hath wrought for us. 

'"That however the Spirit of God is acknowledged most free in all its 
operations upon the souls of men, as 'the wind that bloweth where it 
listeth ;' yet, since it is its wonted course to work by means, it cannot but 



be much the concernment of them who, by their calling, are more especially 
obliged to intend the conversion of souls, to take heed lest they be wanting 
in any such endeavours as the Lord may probably bless and prosper to that 
end. 

• " That the public preaching of the gospel is to be confessed an ordinance 
of God of great necessity and usefulness in order thereunto. 

4 'That it is yet to be hoped, it might prove a great furtherance to the 
success of the gospel, if they who are appointed to the work of public 
preaching, did also (within their respective precincts) use other more private 
endeavours with their hearers, (such as shall admit thereof,) instructing them 
in the things of God they are ignorant of ; pressing upon them what they 
know ; mquiring into the state of their souls ; and applying themselves to 
them accordingly. 

1 1 That it cannot but seem probable, that many ignorant hearers, not so 
wfll capable of understanding a continued [continuous] and transient dis- 
course, might yet, by a way of private and familiar interlocution, be brought 
to some knowledge of the doctrines of the gospel they are yet unacquainted 
with ; and that many inattentive hearers (who regard not often what is 
spoken to them from the pulpit, though of weightiest concernment to their 



68 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



The next letter of Howe, dated Whitehall, May 25, 
is inscribed by an unknown hand, to Mr. Vines. If 
really addressed to that person, it is impossible to 
tell what was the subject of the conversation with 

souls) would yet be obliged to attention unto such a discourse wherein them- 
selves are to bear a part. 

"That, upon the account of the public maintenance such persons in the 
ministry enjoy for their work's sake, they are necessarily obliged, in justice 
and equity, to make it their business to seek the good of souls, and spend 
their time and strength herein ; having an universal care (as much as in 
them lies) of the people among whom they are placed. 

" That, however this infer not an obligation upon them of dispensing unto 
any, such privileges or ordinances as they are not in a present capacity for : 
yet it cannot but be obliging [on] them not to neglect any necessary endea- 
vours for the good of their souls, and by which they may be instrumental 
to help them into that capacity for more peculiar ordinances they- are yet 
short of. 

" That, therefore, the ministers of the gospel within this nation, as they 
would approve themselves persons seriously intending the honour of God 
and saving of souls, be exhorted to give all diligence for the fulfilling of 
their ministry. And that besides their constant work in public preaching, 
they design some time from week to week, for visiting of families within 
their several charges, or otherwise conferring with particular persons (to 
whom their labours in this kind shall be acceptable, ) about the state of their 
souls, and the concernments of another world ; and that, (where either the 
numerousness or averseness of their people do not render it impossible to 
them, ) they labour to be acquainted with the spiritual states of all under 
their charge, and accordingly to instruct, warn, exhort, or comfort them, as 
the case shall require. Furthermore, 

"That the people be exhorted to accept aud improve their offered help 
and assistance herein.' 

" And that, whereas the present differences in judgment and practice 
among the professors and preachers of the gospel, about some circumstantial 
matters relating to church order and discipline, together with their two 
visible distances and estrangements from each other upon that account, are 
so apparently obstructive to the progress of religion and conversion of souls, 
(through the scandal and offence that arises hereby unto many :) the godly 
ministers be invited to maintain (as far as possible) a Christian and brotherly 
communion with each other. And to that end, that they hold frequent 
meetings together, within convenient circuits, for the amicable debating of 
all the things wherein they differ, and the strengthening one another's hands 
in the things wherein they agree ; the repressing the growing errors of the 
times, and carrying on (with as much unanimity and consent as may be) the 
great work they are engaged in. And finally, 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



69 



Mr. Nye referred to in the commencement of the 
letter; but if, as seems most probable, the letter 
was addressed to Baxter, the passage in question is 
explained by the preceding" letter. The writer, 
however, soon hastens to another, and to us, more 
interesting matter — his repugnance to the thought 
of remaining any longer at Whitehall. The whole 
is worthy of an attentive perusal. 

" Reverend Sir, 

"I cannot yet meet with an opportunity for further 
discourse with Mr. Nye, nor do I hope for much success in 
any further treaty with him ; I perceive so steady a resolu- 
tion to measure all endeavours of this kind by their sub- 
servience to the advantage of one party. I resolve, there- 
fore, to make trial what bis Highness will do, as speedily as 
I can. My time will not serve me long ; for I think I shall be 
constrained in conscience (all things considered) to return, ere 
long, to my former station. I left it, I think, upon very fair 
terms. For, first, when I settled there, I expressly reserved to 
myself a liberty of removing, if the providence of God should 
invite me to a condition of more serviceableness anyichere else, — 
which liberty I reckon I could not have parted icith if I would, 
unless I could have exempted myself from God's dominion. My 
call hither, ivas a ivork I thought very considerable ; — the setting 
up of the ivorship and discipline of Christ in this family, wherein 
I was to have joined with another, called upon the same account ; 
— I had made, as I supposed, a competent provision for the place 
I left. But now at once I see the designed work here hopelessly 

"That all lawful protection and encouragement be promised them, while 
they are thus faithfully active (within their spheres and in the things that 
concern their calling, ) for the honour of God and the good of souls. 

" Johjst Howe." 

I need not add, that this document fully shows that the principles of 
toleration were extensively understood, and must have been, also, extensively 
recognised and acted on by the Protector's government. 



70 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



laid aside. We affect here to live in so loose a way* that a man 
cannot fix upon any certain charge to carry toioards them as a 
minister of Christ should : so that it were as hopeful a course to 
preach in a market, or in any assembly met by chance, as here. 
In the meantime, the people I left are breaking into parties ; 
cannot meet in any one person as they profess they could in 
me ; and are now wholly destitute ; and, having heard of 
some inclinations on my part towards them, invite my return. 
I cannot meet with any argument against it, except fleshly 
ones, which I hope Gfod will help me to slight. If you will 
please to afford me your thoughts about it, I shall be thank- 
ful ; being desirous (so far as I understand myself) to spend 
my little time in the world to the best advantage of the 
glor}^ of God. I am through haste constrained abruptly to 
subscribe, 

" Sir, 

" Yours to honour and love you, 

" John Howe. 

" Whitehall, May 2Uh." 

Postscript to the preceding letter. 

"Sir, 

(( The affected disorderliness of this family as to the 
matters of God's worship, {whence arises my despair of doing good 

* This passage is explained by a sentence at the close of the letter. He 
there cautions his correspondent not to disclose too freely "the disorderliness 
of Cromwell's household, as to the matters of religion and God's worship." 
This makes it evident that the above words, "so loose a way," were not 
intended to imply, as they ordinarily would in our times, any licentiousness 
or immorality. The gravity and almost austerity of Cromwell's manners, 
and the severe propriety whichever characterized his court, are well known ; 
nor have any but his most unprincipled traducers, ventured to say anything 
to the contrary. Had he kept the more subtle and spiritual vices of the 
human heart, such as ambition and pride, in the same severe subjection as 
those of animal nature, history would have had little but what was grateful 
to say of him. 

It is a conclusive proof of the propriety of manners which must have per- 
vaded Cromwell's court, that such men as Howe could stay there. Had it 
been like that of the second Charles, he would not have applied to his friend 
Baxter to know whether he should remove or not ? 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



71 



here,) I desire as much as is possible to conceal, and therefore 
resolve, to others, to insist upon the necessitous condition of 
the place I left as the reason of my removal, (if I do remove;) 
to yourself I state my case more fully, as expecting some 
direction and help from you about it; but I desire you to be 
very sparing in making it known as 'tis here represented."* 

The next letter is still on the same subject. It is 
evident that his friend Baxter was opposed to his 
leaving Whitehall, and had been endeavouring to 
dissuade him from that step. 

a TO THE REV. RICHARD BAXTER. 

"Dear and honoured Brother, 

"'Tis my unhappiness that I cannot give so clear a 
state of my case, as may make way for a grounded judgment. 
'Tis a hard matter to describe the state of the place I have 
left, (as now it is.) I left it in a hopeful way of being happily 
supplied; but one party rejected the person I recommended, 
another party (for I found the best there, at my first coming, 
two parties, which were, through Grod's blessing on endea- 
vours, brought into one body, and are now breaking into two 
parties again) have since rejected another; who yet all profess 
a readiness to meet in me as before. Also, (which I should 
not speak did not the matter require it,) some overtures made 
by me were the occasion of a settled meeting of the neigh- 
bouring ministers of different persuasions, (kept up for some 
time, not without hopes of good success,) which hath been 
discontinued and forsaken by one party, and 'tis represented 
to me, by some of them, as a matter of ill consequence to 

* The concluding paragraph of this letter would justly expose Howe to 
the charge of insincerity, had not the "lamentable condition" of the people 
at Torrington, been a real and very powerful reason of his leaving White- 
hall. Provided -we state a real reason for our conduct, it is agreed by all 
casuists, that we are not bound to state every reason. 



72 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



those parts. Torrington was the place of meeting, and the 
only convenient place for that purpose ; which, if not supplied 
by a person inclined to peace, (of which my frustrated endea- 
vours have made me despair,) will not draw in both parties 
thither. My ministry there was not (thro' Gfod's grace) 
altogether in vain ; and the advantage I may hope from the 
increase of their affections by absence, seems to promise it 
may be more prosperous, should I return. 

" Sere, my influence is not like to be much, (as it is not to be 
expected a raw young man should be much considerable among 
grandees;) my work little ; my success hitherto little ; my hopes, 
considering the temper of this place, very small; especially coupling 
it with the temper of my spirit, which, did you know it, alone would, 
I think, greatly alter your judgment of this case. I am naturally 
bashful, pusillanimous, easily brow-beaten* solicitous about the 
fitness and unfitness of speech or silence in most cases, afraid 
(especially having to do with those who are constant in the ( arcana 
imperii') of being accounted uncivil, etc.: and the distemper 
being natural (most intrinsically) is less curable. You can easily 
guess how little considerations are like to do in such a case. I did 
not, I confess, know myself so ivell as, since my coming up, occasion 
and reflection have taught me to do. I find now my hopes of 
doing good, will be among people where I shall not be so liable to 
be overawed. I might have known this sooner, and have prevented 
the trouble I am now in. Though the case of my coming up 
hither, and continuance, differ much, so as that I can't condemn 
the former, yet I more incline to do that than justify the latter. 

* Howe's estimate of himself is, of course, what might be expected from 
his modesty ; but it is one, in which few who have studied his life or 
writings will be disposed to acquiesce. When we consider the uncommon 
prudence with which he conducted himself in this difficult situation, the 
supposition of his being " a raw young man" is out of the question; and 
when we reflect on the signal courage and firmness which he manifested 
at the call of duty, (some striking proofs of which will be given in a subse- 
quent page, ) the description of his bashf ulness and pusillanimity is perfectly 
ludicrous. 



LITE OF HOWE. 



73 



Your intimations (now renewed) of the danger of,* etc., are 
sad; but what can I do for prevention ? or (if I might hope 
my persuasions would signify anything) what course should I 
persuade to ? Besides, there are store of good men about the 
city who have as free access, and probably more regard than 
I. What I may do in befriending good causes, will be 
according to my calling. 

" I have devoted myself to serve God in the work of the 
ministry, and how can I want the pleasure of hearing their 
cryings and complaints, who have come to me under con- 
viction, etc. ? I shall beseech you to weigh my case over 
again.T 

" Pardon this importune trouble from, Sir, 
" Yours in affection and observance, 

" John Howe." 

" Whitehall, June 1, 58. 

" For the Eev. Mr. Richard Baxter, Minister of the Gfospel 
at Kidderminster, Worcestershire." 

The next letter, which is dated May 8, 1658, is 
the last on this subject. It appears that Howe 
stayed at Whitehall until after the Protectors death, 
which took place in the following September. This, 
together with other circumstances, to which I shall 
presently advert, proves that some such arrangement 
as that mentioned in the following letter had been 
approved by Cromwell. On the deposition of Richard 
Cromwell, Howe returned to his flock at Torrington. 

* Alluding, I imagine, to the designs of the 64 infidels and Papists," men- 
tioned in a former letter. 

+ It is evident from this, as well as from some other passages of the 
letter, that Baxter was extremely unwilling that his friend should leave 
the Protectors court. He probably felt that there was no one else who 
was likely to fill the same arduous post, with an equal measure of integrity 
and discretion, or with such a conscientious regard to the public good. 

E 



74 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



"TO THE REV. RICHARD BAXTER. 

" Reverend Sir, 

" Since my last, something has come into my thoughts, 
which may be a medium betwixt my deserting my present 
station, etc. ; i.e. to retain a relation still to Torrington, (which 
hitherto, for want of a successor, I could not divest myself of,) 
and get leave to be with them a quarter of a year, or as much 
time as I may be allowed in the year, procuring another who 
shall enjoy the profits of the place, to be constantly resident* 
This, if it may be done, will be a double satisfaction to me. 
1. That while I am with them, (as I shall much desire to be 
sometimes,) it will give me the advantage of dealing with 
them as their minister, which will both procure me more 
liberty in my own spirit in my applications to them, when I 
shall not fear to be looked upon as an encroacher, and an 
uninterested person, and probably more regard from them.f 

* We may rest assured that it was only on such terms that a man like 
Howe could ever have resorted to such a course. As it was, the latter part 
of this letter shows, that he had doubts about its propriety, and he there- 
fore requests Baxter's judgment upon it. If all pluralists were of the same 
stamp, if they were characterized by the same disinterestedness and bene- 
volence of intention, the church of Christ would have small quarrel with 
them. 

As it appears that he alone could hold the people at Torrington together, 
and as he could not at present reside with them, the course he proposed 
seemed to be the only one open to him. It is, however, a striking proof, 
that general principles are not always to be strained to their extreme conse- 
quences ; that in the infinite complications of human affairs, such principles 
cannot be applied with absolute precision ; and that if we will not consent 
to modify our theories to meet peculiar cases, we shall be likely sometimes 
to lose the fairest opportunities of doing good. And in fact, what party is 
it whose ecclesiastical system does not exemplify, in its practical working, 
many deviations from the letter of its principles ? 

f This letter powerfully demonstrates the intense interest this faithful 
pastor took in his flock at Torrington. Indeed, his feelings of attachment 
towards them never seem to have suffered the slightest diminution ; witness 
the affecting appeal which, after a lapse of nearly twenty years, he ad- 
dressed to them from Ireland, on the occasion of his publishing his treatise 
on ' ' Delighting in God. " 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



75 



2. That by tliis means a cloor will "be kept open for my return 
to them, if hereafter it should be more apparently my duty so 
to do ; which will be a great relief to me against what may 
possibly prove otherwise very afflictive, namely, the fear lest I 
should have irrecoverably thrown away the best opportimity 
of doing G-od service, that may ever be offered me while I 
live. My only doubt is about the lawfulness of such a course ; 
namely, of continuing related to a people with whom we can so 
little reside. I know not whether the not common occasion of 
my absence may plead anything for it. I shall entreat your 
judgment in this case, and that you will please to afford it 
speedily, because I shall forbear till then to propound it 
to,* etc. 

" I am, Sir, 

a Yours, much obliged, 

" J. Howe. 

" Whitehall, June 3, 58. 

" For the Rev. 3Ir. Richard Baxter, Minister of the Gospel 
at Kidderminster, Worcestershire." 

The principal motives which induced Howe to ac- 
cept the situation at Whitehall have been already ad- 
verted to in the course of the narrative, and are more 
fully disclosed in the preceding letters. We cannot be 
surprised, that a man like Howe, a man whose whole 
life was dedicated to the service of religion, should 
think the situation Cromwell offered himf one not to 
be at once refused. It was, as he himself declares, 
M a very considerable work to which he was called." 
In such a position, and with the opportunities which 

* To the Protector. 

t Or rather, the situation -which Cromwell thrust upon him ; for, as we 
have seen, he could scarcely be said, to have any choice in the matter. 

E 2 



76 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



that position could not fail to give him, lie might 
reasonably hope, not only to do good within the 
limits of the Protector's court and household, but to 
exert a beneficial influence on the interests of reli- 
gion at large. And though those hopes were, as he 
himself sadly admits, disappointed, the incidental 
opportunities of doing good were so numerous, and 
he was disposed to make such good use* of them, 
that Baxter, as we have seen, was altogether averse 
to his quitting his post, even when Howe had so 
strongly expressed his reluctance to continue in it. 

As he had been induced to accept the office only 
from the purest motives, he immediately wished to 
abandon it, when he found that the main objects 
he contemplated in accepting it could not be realized; 
when he discovered that he could not " carry it," as 
a " minister of Christ," to such an extraordinary 
" charge," and that he might as well preach in a 
" market," or to the most tumultuous assembly, as to 
an audience which " affected" such " a license" of 
opinion and practice. 

That he did not immediately resign, none, 
after reading the preceding letters, can hesitate to 
ascribe to the advice of Baxter. His friend rightly 
thought that the personal influence he could still 
exert with the Protector, was considerable, and ought 

* Some instances of his kind offices on behalf of individuals of the oppo- 
site party, will be mentioned in the course of the narrative. And who can 
tell how many others were the fruit of that confidence with which the Pro- 
tector never ceased to honour him ? who can tell but that the same generous 
mediation which induced Cromwell to act so noble a part to Dr. Ward, 
might also have prompted him to some other of those truly splendid actions, 
which though they cannot justify his usurpations, yet shed a redeeming 
lustre on his name ? 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



77 



not to be lightly thrown away. That Howe re- 
mained, in compliance with this friendly advice, is 
much to his credit ; for a more difficult or irksome 
situation to one of his character and habits can hardly 
be conceived. It has been already observed, that 
almost under any circumstances Howe would have 
preferred retirement to publicity; studious solitude 
to the pursuits of active life ; humble usefulness as a 
minister of Christ, to the proudest honours that ever 
waited on successful ambition. But the situation, in 
which he was now placed, must have been distasteful 
in the last degree. Compelled to live amidst those 
with whom he had no sympathy, to witness exhibi- 
tions of fanaticism and extravagance, which he could 
not control, — how must he have sighed for the quiet 
of Great Torrington ! 

Still he was right in not hastily abandoning White- 
hall. His personal character stood high with all 
parties, but especially with the Protector: he was 
sometimes able to mitigate the evils he could not 
prevent, and to exert, in the cause of charity and 
moderation, the influence which, had he abandoned 
his station, might have been employed by others 
only to gratify religious rancour or promote the 
objects of selfish rapacity. 

" Never," says Calamy, " can I find him so much 
as charged, even by those who have been most 
forward to inveigh against a number of his con- 
temporaries, with improving his interest in those 
who then had the management of affairs in their 
hands, either to the enriching himself, or the doing 
ill offices to others, though of known differing senti- 



78 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



ments. He readily embraced every occasion that 
offered, of serving the interest of religion and 
learning, and opposing the errors and designs which 
at that time threatened both." 

These traits of character seem to have been 
properly appreciated by his great patron, who on 
one occasion paid him the following noble compli- 
ment : "You have obtained," said Cromwell, "many- 
favours for others ; I wonder when the time is to 
come that you will solicit anything for yourself, or 
your family." 

Of the disinterestedness, integrity, and gene- 
rosity, with which he filled this difficult situation, 
the following may suffice as examples. 

Amongst many other Episcopalians whom he 
befriended in distress was the celebrated Seth Ward, 
afterward Bishop of Exeter, who always retained a 
grateful sense of Howe's kindness. It appears that 
Dr. Ward, who had been sometime Professor of 
Astronomy at Oxford, became a candidate for the 
principalship of Jesus College in that University, on 
the resignation of Dr. Michael Roberts. r A gen- 
tleman of Exeter College, Mr. Francis Howel, was 
another candidate. Dr. Ward, it seems, had the 
suffrages of a majority of the Fellows in his favour ; 
but, on the other hand, his opponent had obtained 
from the Protector a positive promise of the appoint- 
ment. Dr. Ward, ignorant of this, was anxious to 
secure the same all-powerful interest. For this pur- 
pose he applied to Howe, who, without promising 
much, promised to do all he could, and readily pro- 
cured him an audience. When Dr. Ward had been 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



79 



introduced to the Protector, Howe proceeded to 
speak, in terms of the strongest admiration, of his 
worth and learning ; and intimated, that it would 
be no very creditable thing, if a man of such rare 
attainments, and who, moreover, was supported by 
a majority of the Fellows, should fail in obtaining 
the principalship. Cromwell answered, that Dr. 
Roberts had resigned his office into his hands ; that 
he had been told that it was his right to fill up the 
vacancy ; and lastly, that as he had promised the 
situation to Mr. Howel, he could not in honour 
retract. At the same time he took Howe aside, and 
began to question him more closely about Dr. Ward. 
Howe " assured him that it would be much for 
his honour" to befriend the Doctor. Cromwell, 
turning to Dr. Ward, told him, that he found u Mr. 
Howe to be very much his friend, and was, on such 
recommendation, disposed to give him some tokens 
of his regard." He then u pleasantly asked him, 
what he thought the principalship of Jesus College 
might be worth ? " The Doctor told him what it 
was generally computed to be worth. Upon this, 
the Protector promised that he would allow him an 
annual sum to that amount. 

Of the estimation in which Howe was held by the 
Episcopalians, some striking proofs were given at 
the time that extraordinary conclave was sitting, 
commonly known by the name of the " Triers." It 
was the duty of these men to ascertain the qualifi- 
cations of all candidates for the ministerial office :* 

* it was the candid admission of Baxter, who, be it recollected, was by 
no means favourable to the "Triers," who thought their tribunal constituted 



80 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



many of the Episcopalians, having no unreasonable 
apprehension of this ordeal, applied to Howe for 
advice. Amongst others was the worthy humorist, 
Dr. Thomas Fuller. " You may observe, Sir," 
said that facetious person, " that I am a somewhat 
corpulent man, and I am to go through a very 
strait passage : I beg you would be so good as to 
give me a shove, and help me through." Howe 
willingly gave him his best counsel. When he 
appeared before the examiners, and they proposed 
the usual question, " Whether he had ever had 
any experience of a work of grace on his heart ? " he 
answered, that "he could appeal to the Seareher of 
hearts, that he made a conscience of his very 
thoughts : " implying, that it was not without the 
strictest scrutiny into his motives that he had ven- 
tured on the ministerial office. " With this answer," 
says Calamy, u they were satisfied, as indeed they 
might well be." There can be little doubt that 
Howe suggested it. While it was sufficient to 
answer the general purpose for which the ques- 
tion was put, it was not so particular as to involve 
any of those perplexing discussions which were the 

by no just authority, and who refused to participate in their proceedings, 
that, on the whole, they had discharged their duties with great impartiality 
and discretion, and with signal benefit to the church and the nation. Still 
it is very possible, notwithstanding the generally beneficial results of their 
labours, that many pious and excellent men may have been much perplexed 
by the needless minuteness of their monies. If not deeply versed in the 
abstruse controversies, and thoroughly familiarized to the religious phrase- 
ology of the age, simple-minded piety might be easily wrecked on some of 
the subtle interrogatories with which Mr. Nye, and some of his colleagues, 
might attempt to elicit "those deeper discoveries," to which reference is 
made in one of Howe's letters to Baxter. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



81 



delight of the men and of the age. If honest 
Thomas Fuller had attempted a more specific 
answer, it is by no means improbable that in spite 
of all his excellence, he would not have satisfied the 
subtle and " distinguishing" spirit which animated 
many of his examiners. He might, but for Howe's 
timely " shove," have stuck in the dreaded passage 
after all. 

Of the conscientiousness and integrity, with which 
Howe fulfilled his duties as Cromwell's domestic 
chaplain, an impressive example was given in his 
sermon, " On a particular Faith in Prayer." As 
many readers' may not understand this mysterious 
phrase, a word of explanation may be desirable. 
It was a very prevalent opinion in Cromwell's 
court, and, as will appear in the sequel, seems to 
have been entertained by Cromwell himself, that 
whenever eminently religious persons offered up 
their supplications for themselves or others, secret 
intimations were conveyed to the mind, that the 
particular blessings they implored would be certainly 
bestowed, and even indications afforded of the 
particular way in which their wishes would be 
accomplished. Howe himself confessed to Calamy, 
in a private conversation on this subject, that the 
prevalence of the notion at Whitehall, at the time he 
lived there, was too notorious to be denied ; that 
great pains were taken to cherish and diffuse it, and 
that he himself had heard " a person of note" preach 
a sermon with the avowed design of maintaining 
and defending it. To point out the pernicious con- 
sequences of such an opinion would be superfluous ; 

e 3 



82 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



of course there could be no lack of such intimations 
in an age and court like those of Cromwell ; and all 
the dangerous illusions which a fanatical imagina- 
tion might inspire, and all the consequent horrors to 
which a fanatical zeal could prompt, might plead 
the sanction of an express revelation. 

Howe, regarding this notion with the abhorrence 
which it must inspire in every man of sound judg- 
ment and sincere piety, thought himself bound, 
when next called to preach before Cromwell, to 
expose the fallacies on which it rested, and the per- 
nicious consequences to which it led. This accord- 
ingly he did, doubtless to the no small surprise and 
chagrin of his audience. During his discourse, 
Cromwell was observed to pay marked attention ; 
but, as his custom was when displeased, frequently 
knit his brows, and manifested other symptoms 
of uneasiness. Even the terrors of Cromwell's 
eye, however, could not make Howe quail in the 
performance of an undoubted duty ; and he pro- 
ceeded, in a strain of calm and cogent reason- 
ing, to fulfil his difficult but honourable task.* 
When he had finished, a person of distinction came 
up, and asked him " whether he knew what he had 
done ?" at the same time expressing his apprehen- 
sion that he had irretrievably lost the Protector's 
favour. Howe coolly replied, u that he had dis- 
charged what he considered a duty, and could trust 

* For the outline of this sermon, which is all that Calamy could recover, 
see Appendix No. III. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



83 



the issue with God," He told Calamy, " that he 
observed that Cromwell was cooler in his carriage 
to him than before, and sometimes seemed as if he 
would have spoken to him on the subject , but that 
he never did." * 

There are not many men, who would have had 
the moral courage requisite for the above task ; 
fewer still who would have accomplished it in such 
a manner, as, if not to convince, to silence and 
abash the gain say er : while almost any one but Howe 
would have drawn down upon himself the utmost 
indignation of such an audience. Properly to ad- 
minister reproof, even in private, is difficult ; to 
expose public errors, and in a public assembly, 
abundantly more so. To do this, when the errors 
in question are cherished by the great and the 
powerful, and by those whose base interest it is to 
flatter their pride by echoing their sentiments, is 
more difficult still ; while the task, already thus for- 
midable, is rendered almost hopeless, when the 
errors which call for rebuke, are, as in this case, the 
offspring of the rankest fanaticism. As the pro- 
priety of administering reproof at all, presupposes 
that those who are the objects of it, will admit at 
least the possibility of error, how slender is the hope 
of success, when the feeble arguments of reason and 
common sense may be met by an appeal to infallible 
inspiration ! Yet almost hopeless as the task of 

* "He added, that lie had a great deal of satisfaction in what he did in 
this case, both in the time of doing it, and ever afterwards, to the time of 
our conversing together upon this subject." — Calamy, p. 23. 



84 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



Howe was, lie did not shrink from it, simply because 
it was enjoined by the voice of duty. 

It is wonderful that this bold step should not have 
been attended with the total forfeiture of Cromwell's 
favour and esteem. That this was not the case, is 
to be accounted for, only by supposing that Howe's 
rare integrity was conjoined with as rare discretion. 
To undertake such a task, with any hope of success, 
it is not simply necessary to possess the requisite 
boldness ; there must be proportionate prudence. 
So perverse is human nature, that the very confi- 
dence which conscious integrity inspires, will often 
give a man, in the performance of a difficult duty, 
an arrogant and over- weening air, which diminishes, 
and sometimes totally neutralizes, the just influence 
of all that he says and does. In such duties as 
Howe was, on this occasion, called to perform, men 
almost always do too little or too much ; they want 
courage, or they want discretion. 

While Howe was Cromwell's chaplain, Calamy 
informs us that he was often employed in important 
services, which required secrecy and despatch ; but 
he adds, " they were always honourable." Indeed, 
we may be assured, that when Cromwell knew the 
character of the man — and he would not be long in 
discovering it — he would not propose to him any 
service that was otherwise. Such is the value of 
a character for integrity, when once established. 
Not only are temptations resisted with less difficulty 
when they assail at all, but the occasions of tempta- 
tion become less frequent. So true, in this respect, 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



85 



as well as in many others, is that sentiment of 
Shnonides, as expounded in the lively comment of 
Socrates, "It is not difficult to be, but to become, 
virtuous."* 

I have said more than once, that the native ten- 
dencies of Howe's mind would probably have in- 
duced him, under almost any circumstances, to 
prefer a contemplative to an active life ; yet, upon a 
review of his conduct during his residence at White- 
hall, it is obvious that his practical talents must 
have been of no mean order. Great sagacity and 
prudence alone could have enabled him, in a situation 
so difficult, not merely to evade the censure, but to 
secure the admiration of all parties. Incapable of 
artifice or disguise, and noted for inflexible recti- 
tude of purpose, he yet managed to conciliate the 
esteem of the most opposite factions : constantly 
teaching and as constantly practising charity and 
moderation, he yet happily escaped the hostility 
of the eager partisans, who were hungering and 
thirsting for the annihilation of every party but 
their own : without the slightest sympathy with 
fanaticism, he somehow disarmed the wrath and 
malice of the enthusiasts, whose extravagancies and 
follies he rebuked, sometimes by his discourse and 
always by his actions. To exist in the midst of 
such a strife of tempestuous elements, without yield- 
ing to them or being destroyed by them, is a mystery 
of circumspection not easily unravelled. In many 
respects, indeed, that mystery would be equally 

* Plato. Protag. 



86 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



difficult of solution, even if we were to suppose that 
lie was in the constant habit of compromising prin- 
ciple, and that his life was a series of unscrupulous 
adaptations of opinion to the company into which 
he was thrown ; for hypocrisy so various and versa- 
tile, could not long escape detection. The many 
and violent changes to which, on such an hypothesis, 
he must have subjected himself, would have con- 
founded Proteus himself, since there is not a party 
that does not venerate the name of Howe. — But I 
need not pursue this subject; all the records of his 
life leave his character altogether unhnpeached. 

Some might perhaps think that the supposition of 
disinterestedness and integrity is alone sufficient to 
solve the question. Such a solution would be far 
from satisfactory. In general, indeed, such qualities 
will eventually secure a man's reputation, but they 
will not ordinarily protect him from calumny or 
malice during the actual discharge of difficult 
duties. On the contrary, there are never wanting 
those whose malignity is only inflamed by that 
goodness which they know not how to emulate, and 
who consider excellence in others as a libel on 
themselves. 

The foregoing letters serve to show in a very 
striking and affecting point of view, Howe's devoted 
character as a Pastor. It is evident that, to preach 
the gospel, and to train the immortal spirits of men 
for heaven, were, in his estimation, unspeakably the 
most honourable and delightful of all employments. 
In comparison with his office as minister to the 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



87 



humble flock at Torrington, his chaplaincy at White- 
hall — offering as it would, to any ambitious man of 
equal talents, such tempting opportunities of pro- 
moting selfish interests — -possessed no attractions. 
Nor, if we would do him full justice, must we forget 
that, in those days, and in such a court as Crom- 
well's, the situation which Howe held, was not such 
as the name 6 chaplain ' would ordinarily suggest. 
In that age of religious enthusiasm, and in the 
peculiar position of public affairs, almost all ques- 
tions of state were strangely complicated with those 
of religion. How many a fanatic, unconscious that 
his ruling motive was ambition, and how many a 
hypocrite, who knew it but too well, would have 
exulted to obtain Howe's place in Oliver's confi- 
dence — his intimate knowledge of state intrigues, 
and his share in secret and important negotiations. 
He would have known how to turn to his own 
selfish advantage, that power which was never 
employed by Howe, except for the benefit of others, 
and which he would, at any time, have been heartily 
glad to relinquish. 

During the time Howe was in Cromwell's house- 
hold, he appears to have officiated frequently, if not 
regularly, at St. Margaret's Church, Westminster. 
Wood says he was Lecturer there. 

He appears also to have preached once before 
Parliament, though on what occasion is not certainly 
known. The sermon, as is shown by an advertise- 
ment of 1659, was entitled, " Man's Duty in Mag- 
nifying God's Work." I presume it was published 



88 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



on occasion of one or other of those brilliant suc- 
cesses, which attended the arms of England abroad, 
during the latter period of the protectorate. In 
these advertisements he is described as " Preacher 
at Westminster." * 

* Tliis was the earliest of Howe's productions, and as such, if for no other 
reason, would have been an object of curious interest. One would have 
liked, moreover, to see how such a man as Howe acquitted himself on such 
an occasion. For this sermon, however, I have searched in vain. I have 
met with no traces of it" in any public or private collections to which I have 
been able to obtain access. Amongst other places, I have searched the 
British Museum, and Dr. Williams' library, (where, if anywhere, it might 
be expected to be found ; ) as also the catalogues of the Bodleian, Sion 
College, and Lambeth libraries. Whether it was advertised, but never 
published ; or, if published at all, issued to such a limited extent, that not 
a single copy has survived the wastes of accident and time, I cannot pretend 
to decide. 



CHAPTER IV. 



FROM 1658 TO 1668. 

death of cromwell — howe still remains at whitehall — character of 
richard cromwell — his deposition — letter of howe to baxter on 
that event — howe returns to torrington — is informed against — 
defends himself successfully — is ejected by the act of uniformity 
— howe's interview with dr. wilkins — reflections — a citation 
against him— his interview with bishop ward — oxford oath— 
howe's conduct on that occasion — letter to his brother-in-law — 
reflections on protestant persecution — publishes ' ' the blessedness 
of the righteous." 

Whei* Cromwell died,* Howe did not, as might 
have been expected from the preceding letters, 
relinquish his situation at Whitehall. It is by no 
means improbable that, in addition to those general 
reasons, which had already induced him to sacrifice 
his own inclination to what his friend Baxter repre- 
sented as a duty, the personal character of the new 
Protector had a considerable share in reconciling 
him to his office. It is certain, at all events, that 
the principal reason for relinquishing that office, 
must have ceased with the life of Oliver. To 
Richard Cromwell, he could have had no personal 
objections ; on the contrary, he uniformly expressed 
the highest opinion of his worth and integrity. 

* September 3, 1658. 



90 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



His situation was rendered still more tolerable, 
from his having effected those arrangements with 
regard to Torrington, to which a reference has been 
already made. This is confirmed by a letter to 
Baxter, inserted in this chapter. From that letter, 
it aj3pears, that the first visit which he paid to 
Torrington, in consequence of those arrangements, 
was almost immediately after the Protector's death. 
He remained in the west for some months, and 
consequently could have resumed his duties at 
Whitehall only a very short time before Richard's 
deposition.* 

Richard Cromwell was utterly incapable of govern- 
ing that distracted empire, which tasked to the full 
even the sagacious and powerful intellect of his father. 
His deposition, therefore, soon became inevitable. 
He was not destitute of abilities, but they were 
such as fitted him rather for private than for public 
life ; least of all for wielding such a sceptre as his 
predecessor had bequeathed him. Nor did he want 
merely the energy and ambition of the old Pro- 
tector : he could not employ — what the situation 
would have required — the exertion of arbitrary 
power or an unscrupulous policy. He was a man, 
not indeed of genius, but of honour and humanity ; 
one of the few, who would have preferred the 

* In a little more than three weeks after Cromwell's death, the congrega- 
tional brethren met at the Savoy, (Sept. 29,) and drew up that "confession of 
faith," etc., still known by the name of the " Savoy Confession. " Howe, 
it appears, was present at their deliberations. It was, in all probability, 
within a very few days after this, that he departed on his visit to Torrington. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



91 



humblest obscurity to the most splendid diadem, if 
power was to be purchased or retained by a course 
of violence or treachery. 

Immediately after Richard Cromwell's deposition, 
Howe, at the request of a relative, addressed the 
subjoined letter to Baxter, . in explanation of the 
recent changes. It is now published for the first 
time, and will be read, I feel confident, with con- 
siderable interest. 

In this letter the conduct of Richard Cromwell, 
which all historians admit to have indicated as much 
of disinterestedness and patriotism as it betrayed of 
timidity and irresolution, is represented by Howe — 
and no man was more likely to be acquainted with 
the truth than himself — in a light still more favour- 
able, than that in which it has been generally re- 
garded. It appears, that even that fatal dissolution 
of the Parliament, which was the death-warrant of 
his power, was a deliberate sacrifice of his own 
interests to patriotism. He saw, from the first, the 
full effects of this measure, — but, as it was inevitable, 
resolved to venture upon it himself, rather than 
suffer it to be taken, with more hazard to the coun- 
try, by others. The letter also shows, that both 
Richard and his father, the one from principle, the 
other in obedience to a sagacious policy, had long 
desired the diminution of the military power, and 
the " civill settlement" of the nation. Cromwell, at 
the close of life, had learned, for good reasons, to 
dread the predominant influence of that very army, 
which, at an earlier period, had been the great 



92 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



instrument of his successful ambition. In this in- 
stance, as in many others, it was found more easy 
to set the elements of political power at liberty, 
than to reclaim or control them. 

TO THE KEY. RICHARD BAXTER. 

" Rev. and dear Brother, 

"Since my return from the "West, (where I suppose 
you may have heard I spent some months of late,*) I have 
often been putting pen to paper to write to you ; but have 
deferred, — being still held in expectation of some further 
issue, — that I might know what to write that might be a 
ground of some action or treaty for the church's good. Such 
expectations are now at an end. I know not to what pur- 
pose it will now be to fill a letter with complaints of man's 
iniquity, and our present and approaching miseries. My 
kinsman, Mr. Upton, (now in town,) showed me a letter of 
yours, wherein you express your wonder at our late turns, as 
well you may. He hath made it my task to give what 
account I can. It cannot be new to you that the council in 
the old Protector's time was divided into two parties ; the one 
was for a settlement on such terms as might please the 
nation, as he himself also was ; those, except one of late, had 
no present relation to the army ; the other, who were (the 
chief of them) army-men, were not much pleased with, nor did 
study any such thing ; but thought it their duty, in order to 
the safety of religion and liberty of conscience, to keep up 

* This letter is dated May 21, that is (evidently) of the year 1659, imme- 
diately after Richard Cromwell's deposition. Soon after the death of Oliver, 
Howe, as already mentioned, had paid a visit to Torrington, where he re- 
mained till the spring of the following year. He had now, it would appear, 
returned to London, where, it is plain, this letter was written. He eould 
not, therefore, have officiated at Whitehall more than a month or two, 
during the short period of the younger Cromwell's protectorate. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



93 



the power of the army as much as they could, and thereby to 
curb and repress the spirit of the nation, as they use to 
phrase it. The young Protector — following (in this) his 
father's steps, I mean in the study and endeavour of a civil 
settlement, whereby a just provision might be made also for 
religious liberty by a law, without having the nation under a 
force, and that things might run in their natural channel — is 
looked upon with a jealous eye by the military part of the 
council ; lest he should mingle interests with the nation, and 
master theirs, and so the army, wherein their places of power 
and profit lay, by degrees become insignificant. To obviate 
this, after his entrance into the government, they attempt to 
vote the army independent on him, etc. A parliament being 
called, they find his interests to be prevailing there against 
the Commonwealth/s-men, (as they are called ;) so that the 
other house* is owned and agreed to be transacted with. 
They find that this other house will be no balance to the 
Commons, as being much of their temper \ for though it be 
true the old Protector called several swordsmen into that 
house to please the army, yet he wisely contrived it, that 
they should not be so many as to hurt the nation ; the judges 
and several gentlemen of the country, and quite of another 
temper, being the major part ; and easily perceive that what- 
ever shall be done by the Commons, in order to the restrain- 
ing of religious liberty, f and the subjugating of the army to 
the civil government, is likely to meet with no great opposi- 
tion in the other house. Therefore they (the army) think it 
necessary to have the Parliament gosioelled or dissolved ; and 
because they cannot procure this by persuasion, they embody 

* The House of Lords ; to which that part of the Council, which favoured 
the ascendancy of the army, were willing to appeal, when they found the 
Commons too strong for them. 

f In the army, the doctrine of religious liberty had been employed, to 
justify every species of extravagance. With whatever real fears for " reli- 
gious liberty," some few of the "army-men" may have regarded "a civill 
settlement," it is evident, as Howe shows in the sequel of this letter, that 
the most selfish ambition was the prime motive of all their proceedings. 



94 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



and resolve upon force ; which the Protector perceiving, and 
understanding, if the work must be done by them, they 
intended only gospelling, and to leave a remnant that should 
do their work, and put a pretext of legality upon whatever 
they should have a mind to ; for prevention of this, choosing 
rather to dissolve them, not dreaming, as one would think no 

man could, of such a thing as this rag of , etc. This 

action of the army, which procured the Parliament's dissolu- 
tion, occasioned a mighty accession and confluence to them of 
wild-headed persons of all sorts, whom they refuse not, as 
fearing they might have need of them : these infuse into the 
inferior officers a disaffection to government by a single 
person;* the stream runs so strong this way, that the 
chief officers cannot withstand it ; and they endeavour 
faintly enough, some of them at least ; hence rather than 
undertake the modelling of a new government, they think 
it advisable rather to work the nation with the price of 
the .... 

" Sir, such persons as are now at the head of affairs, will 
blast religion, f if God prevent not. The design you writ 
me of, some time since, to introduce Infidelity or Popery, 
they have opportunity enough to effect. I know some lead- 
ing men are not Christians. Religion is lost out of England, 
farther than as it can creep into corners. Those in power, who 
are friends to it, will no more suspect these persons, than 

* That is, they excite clamour for their long-cherished scheme of a pure 
republic. 

f This letter was written during that unsettled year which intervened 
between Richard Cromwell's resignation and the restoration of the King. 
The " army-men," who had so successfully conspired the downfall of the 
young Protector, were now at the "head of affairs." They pretended to be 
anxious to govern by a parliament, (without a Protector or a House of 
Peers,) which should be called "Keeper of the liberty of England." But, 
as Howe truly says in this letter, it was to be a parliament meanly and 
hopelessly subservient to their designs ; and on the first symptom of inde- 
pendence, they were contemptuously dismissed. Sovereign power was then 
openly assumed by the small junta, who had already really possessed it ever 
since Oliver's death, under the name of the " Council of Officers." 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



95 



their ownselves. I am returning to my old station, being 
now at liberty beyond dispute. 

" I am, 
" Sir, 

" Your much, obliged, 

" John Howe. 

"May 21." 

No sooner was Howe at liberty, than he availed 
himself of the opportunity of resuming his labours 
amongst his beloved people at Great Torrington. 
He had been reluctantly separated from them, and 
he now joyfully returned. 

He returned unchanged. His spirituality and 
simplicity of mind had not been impaired, or even 
touched, by the secular spirit or the subtle tempta- 
tions of the scenes in which he had lately moved. 
Ambitious only of doing good, he was still as firmly 
convinced as ever, that the humble office of the 
Christian minister is the most illustrious which can 
be coveted by man. 

But he was not long to enjoy unmolested the 
tranquillity and retirement for which he had pined. 
That spirit of persecution, which more fully dis- 
closed its malignity in the " Act of Uniformity," 
began to manifest itself in acts of petty malice, 
almost immediately after the Restoration. Such 
was the intoxication of delight with which the whole 
nation greeted the King's return, that even common 
sobriety of mind was almost enough to subject a 
man to the charge of disaffection. It can hardly be 
a matter of surprise, therefore, that those who had 
in any way been connected with Cromwell's govern- 



96 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



ment, should become the special objects of suspicion ; 
especially, if they were ministers. In many con- 
gregations, the vilest informers lay in ambush, 
waiting for some incautious or ambiguous expres- 
sion, which they might turn to the speaker's dis- 
advantage. Even John Howe did not altogether 
escape their calumnies. At the close of the year 
1660, (about eighteen months after his return to 
Torrington,) two men, named John Evans and 
William Morgan, charged him with having uttered 
seditious and even treasonable matter in two ser- 
mons, preached from Gral. v. 1, 7, 8.* The infor- 
mation was laid before the Mayor, a Mr. Wellington, 
who bound Howe, and several others on his behalf, 
to appear at the next sessions. 

This charge against a man like Howe, whose 
characteristic prudence and quiet spirit afforded a 
double security for his innocence, was to the last 
degree ridiculous ; and it might be predicted in 
what way it would terminate. 

Before the sessions came on, some of the Deputy 
Lieutenants of the County, " not willing," according 
to Calamy, " that the magistrates of the several 
corporations should be too powerful," informed the 
Mayor, " that they could not be present at the 
Sessions, but desired to hear the matter at some 

* The sermons were preached on September 30th, and October 14th, 1660. 
The words were, "Be not deceived; God is not mocked : for what a man 
soweth, that shall he also reap. For he that soweth to the flesh, shall of 
the flesh reap corruption : but he that soweth to the Spirit, shall of the 
Spirit reap life everlasting." It would have required more than ordinary- 
ingenuity, or a special genius for rambling beyond the limits of the subject, 
to preach sedition and treason from such words as these. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



97 



other time, and appointed a day for that purpose," 
In this arrangement the Mayor acquiesced. 

When the affair came on, Howe demanded the 
benefit of the statute,* " to purge himself by more 
evidence than that of the informers." The Mayor 
accordingly administered oath to one and twenty 
witnesses, "judicious men," and " enjoined them, 
on his Majesty's behalf, to declare the truth of the 
matter." Their testimony was unanimous in Howe's 
favour, and he was accordingly discharged. 

But the affair did not rest here. The above 
transaction took place November the 14th. On the 
24th of that month, one of the constables summoned 
the Mayor to appear before the Deputy Lieutenants, 
by a warrant dated exactly ten days back. To the 
warrant were attached five signatures ; those of four 
gentlemen who had been at Torrington on the day 
of Howe's examination, and that of the Sheriff, then 
at a considerable distance. Not knowing by whom 
the warrant had been made out, the Mayor wrote to 
the Sheriff to know the truth ; at the same time 
declaring, that if his appearance was insisted on, he 
would prepare for it, "as far as would consist with 
his office and place an expression which would 
tend to prove the truth of Calamy's representation, 
as to the existence of some petty jealousies between 
the Corporation Magistrates and the Deputy Lieu- 
tenants. 

As the messenger did not return soon enough, 
(there being only an interval of three days between 
serving the warrant and the time fixed for his 

* I. of Edward VI. and I. of Elizabeth. 

F 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



appearance,) the Mayor sent another letter to the 
Deputy Lieutenants. They summarily decided the 
matter by sending a party of horse to bring him to 
Exeter. Haying told him he had acted unwarrant- 
ably in the case of Howe, they committed him to 
the Marshalsea ; compelled him to pay three pounds 
for fees ; and bound him over to appear at the next 
assizes. When the assizes came on, the charge 
against Howe was argued at large before the Judge, 
who, having heard the short-hand notes taken on 
the former occasion, said, " the charge was wholly 
founded on a mistake, and cleared him." Whether 
the Deputy Lieutenants acted in this extraordinary 
manner merely to humble " a Magistrate of the 
Corporation," or, which is not improbable, with the 
hope of proving Howe guilty, or from both these 
motives, cannot be ascertained. " One of the accu- 
sers," says Calamy, u soon left the town, and was 
seen no more ; and the other cut his own throat, 
and was buried in the cross-road." 

But the spirit of persecution did not long content 
itself with such petty exhibitions of spite as these. 
Such methods were always tardy, and at best uncer- 
tain; the charges, moreover, were limited to poli- 
tical disaffection, were generally difficult of proof, 
and, as in the present instance, often ended in the 
discomfiture of the accusers. 

They were speedily abandoned, therefore, for a 
more comprehensive scheme of persecution; a scheme 
by which not only those who were supposed to be 
disaffected to the government, but those- who might 
find it impossible to comply with the requirements 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



99 



of the most rigid ecclesiastical uniformity, would be 
infallibly ejected from the church ; or rather be 
compelled, unless they could first silence their con- 
sciences, to eject themselves. This object was 
effected by the Act of Uniformity ; which passed 
both Houses of Parliament, (though by a very small 
majority in the House of Commons,) in May, 1662, 
and most approjjriately took effect on Bartholomew- 
day, August 24th, of the same year. 

An attempt has sometimes been made to defend 
this oppressive act, by representing it as merely a 
righteous retribution for the severities practised on 
the Episcopalian clergy by the Presbyterians. To 
those, who undertake to justify those severities, — if, 
indeed, in this day there are any such persons to be 
found, — such an argument may, for aught I know, be 
conclusive. To those who, with the present writer, 
disdain to be the apologists of the excesses of any 
party, and who refuse to admit recrimination to be 
argument, such considerations are of no force what- 
ever. Tyranny and oppression will never want an 
adequate excuse, if precedent can furnish it. 

When shall we cease to act in this blind spirit of 
partisanship, and no longer absurdly burden our- 
selves with the defence of the crimes and follies of 
our forefathers ? When shall we learn to call injus- 
tice and wrong by their right names, by whatsoever 
party they may be committed ? 

But though it is not for me to decide on the point 
of precedence in cruelty between the Episcopalians 
and Presbyterians, or to determine whether the 
pages of Walker or of Calamy authentically record 

f 2 



100 LIFE OF HOWE. 

the largest portion of human suffering, it can hardly 
be denied, that several circumstances stamp on the 
" Act of Uniformity" a peculiar character of bigotry 
and folly. It was passed at a comparatively late 
period ; when history had already recorded some of 
her most impressive lessons on the wickedness and 
inutility of persecution; when the principles of 
toleration were, in some measure, understood ; and, 
what is still more important, had been to a consider- 
able extent acted on. Many of the points to which 
assent and consent were so rigidly demanded, were 
acknowledged by the imposers to be in themselves 
indifferent. It did not come into operation. gradu- 
ally, but at once, leaving its victims no time to seek 
shelter from the storm ; with such absurd and inde- 
cent haste, indeed, that multitudes could not have 
had time even to read, much less calmly investigate, 
the matters to which their solemn assent was T de- 
manded.* And lastly, the execution of the law was 
timed with such ingenious malice, as to deprive the 
unhappy men who found compliance with it impos- 
sible, of a whole year's income ; thus in very many 
cases, not only securing their expulsion from the 
church, but involving them in absolute beggary. 
This circumstance alone would prove, that the grati- 
fication of party feeling, not a conscientious regard 
for the welfare of the church, was uppermost in the 
minds of the framers of the Act. Had the latter 
been their motive, they would have commiserated 
the sufferings which they erroneously thought them- 
selves compelled to inflict, and would have earnestly 

* Locke's Works, vol. x. p. 203, 204. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



101 



sought every expedient of diminishing and alleviat- 
ing them. 

Happily, in our day, there is something approach- 
ing unanimity in the view generally taken of the 
spirit which framed and enforced the "Act of 
Uniformity." "It is a passage of history," says the 
writer of a candid review of the first edition of the 
present work, inserted in a high-church organ, — "it 
is a passage of history, Ave must honestly confess, 
which we love not to dwell upon ; " he truly adds, 
" such times can never return." The churchman 
who can conscientiously subscribe, feels the impolicy 
of that rigorous demand of conformity in things 
admitted to be " indifferent," by which so many 
were prevented from subscribing, and are still pre- 
vented; and if the thing were to be done over again, 
he would, in general, plead strongly for a relaxation 
of the rigidity and minute exactions of the act, even 
though he needed it not himself. Such, in truth, is 
the very generally prevailing feeling of the present 
day. The contemplation of the history of that 
period excites the less acrimony, that it is felt — 
whether the change be right or wrong — that the 
whole position of the controversy between the 
churchman and the nonconformist has shifted its 
ground since that day. The argument for and 
against State-establishments, — an argument we are 
happily exempt from discussing here, — was, in the 
days of Howe, utterly unknown. It is but candid to 
say, that probably scarcely one (if one) of the two 
thousand ejected ministers would have scrupled to 
officiate in the Establishment as such, supposing some 



102 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



indulgence and latitude in minor matters had been 
extended to them : on the other hand, it is equally 
true, that multitudes of the nonconformists of our 
day would never have laid any stress upon some of 
the scruples which so needlessly troubled the con- 
sciences of our forefathers. Still, the subject is a 
very instructive one ; it shows the danger and folly 
of multiplying beyond confessed necessity the terms 
of subscription or communion; of forgetting that 
nothing ought absolutely to bar the way into 
any church, but what will, in the estimate of 
its founders and members, bar the way to heaven 
also. 

The decision of Howe is well known. With all 
his catholicity of spirit and his magnanimous disre- 
gard of minor differences ; with all his disposition 
even to forget many of those differences for the sake 
of unity and peace, and to comply with the practices of 
various parties, (so long as it was mutually admitted, 
that such compliance was a compliance of charity 
only,) he could not prevail on himself to conform, 
though never questioning that multitudes honestly 
could. He felt that it was one thing to admit that 
certain propositions might be embraced or rejected 
according to each man's opinion respecting them, 
and another solemnly to subscribe that he believed 
that to be true, (however trivial in itself,) which he 
nevertheless believed to be false ; one thing to de- 
clare a certain practice of no importance, and another 
to renounce that liberty of adopting it or not, which 
ought to be the very consequence of its alleged 
insignificance. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



103 



It is evident, indeed, from a conversation which 
How r e held with his liberal-minded and amiable 
friend, Dr. Wilkins, and which will be presently 
narrated, that even apart from conscientious scruples 
with respect to some of the terms of the Act of 
Uniformity, his catholicity of temper and liberality 
of opinion (which, at first sight, would appear to 
render conformity so easy) were amongst the very 
things which made him hesitate. It was precisely 
because he was of so catholic a spirit, that he objected 
to a system of ecclesiastical policy built on an un- 
necessarily restricted basis ; it was because he was 
so superior to minor differences, that he condemned 
the prejudices which magnified their importance ; it 
was because he really believed many opinions and 
practices indifferent in themselves, that he could not 
bear to see them treated as though they were not 
indifferent ; it was because he was so anxious for the 
communion of all true Christians, of whatsoever 
party, that he mourned to see the limits of church 
fellowship determined, not by broad, well-defined lines 
which should separate vital truth from destructive 
error, but in effect by the least significant matters 
the " Act of Uniformity " enjoined. We say the least 
significant, because though it is most true that the 
u Act of Uniformity " enjoined many things of grave 
importance ; still, as ejectment was the consequence 
of anything short of " unfeigned assent and consent 
to the whole Book of Common Prayer, etc.," and as 
the most harmless scruple was as fatal as the most 
weighty objection, it is evident that the bigoted and 
exclusive spirit of the Act is to be determined by the 



104 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



most insignificant of the matters which it rendered 
imperative. If a man were willing to comply with 
everything except the use of the cross in baptism, 
his ejectment was still inevitable. 

On these grounds, therefore, it is not improbable, 
that even if the Act of Uniformity had demanded 
subscription to no proposition which he did not 
believe true, and compliance with no practice at 
which he would have scrupled, he would still have 
hesitated to conform. 

On the day on which the Act took effect, Howe 
preached two pathetic farewell sermons, at which, 
says Calamy, his audience "were all in tears." 
Having told his audience that " he had consulted his 
conscience, and could not be satisfied with the terms 
of conformity fixed by law," he proceeded to give an 
account of the principal reasons of his refusal to 
subscribe. 

Shortly after his ejectment, occurred the con- 
versation to which I have already adverted, between 
Howe and Dr. Wilkins, afterwards Bishop of Chester. 
This excellent man still continued to be a friend of 
Howe, whose ejectment, indeed, made no difference 
whatever in his private intimacies. Amongst other 
tilings, the Doctor said, that the " Act of Uniformity 
had had such consequences as a little surprised him ; 
in that while some, that he should have thought 
much too stiff and rigid ever to have fallen in with 
the establishment, had complied and conformed ; 
others, that he thought had a sufficient latitude to 
have conformed, had stood out, and continued 
nonconformists." He then hinted to Howe, that 



LIFE OF HOWE. 105 

" he took him for one of the latter sort, and should 
be glad to know the reasons of his conduct." Howe 
at once declared, "that he had weighed that matter 
with all the impartiality he was able ; that he had 
not so slender a concern for his own usefulness and 
comfort, as not to have been willing and desirous to 
have been under the establishment, could he but 
have compassed it with satisfaction to his conscience ; 
that to giye a particular account of all the reasons of 
his conduct, (which he was free to do without any 
reserve, when a convenient opportunity offered,) 
would take up much more time than they had to 
spend together ; that so many things were neces- 
sarily to be touched upon in a discourse on that 
subject, that it was not possible for it to be crowded 
into a transient conversation ; and therefore he 
should reserve it to a season when, having more 
time, he might have more scope. But one thing he 
could tell him with assurance, — that that latitude of his, 
which he (Dr. W.) was pleased to take notice of, 
was so far from inducing him to conformity, that it 
was the very thing that made and kept him a 
nonconformist." The Doctor then asked him, 
whether it was the discipline of the church to which 
he chiefly objected. Howe replied, "that he could 
not by any means be fond of a church, that in 
reality had no discipline at all, and that he thought 
that a very considerable objection against the 
establishment." The Doctor then said, that though 
he was sensible there was no time for lengthened 
discourse on the subject, he should be glad of some 
general mention of his principal objections. 

f3 



106 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



On this Howe intimated, " that he could not 
recognise, in the present constitution, those noble 
and generous principles of communion, which he 
thought must, sooner or later, characterize every 
church of Christ ; that consequently, when that 
flourishing state of religion should arrive, which he 
thought he had sufficient warrant from the word ol 
God to expect, a constitution which rested on such 
an exclusive basis must fall : that, believing this to 
be the case, he was no more willing to exercise his 
ministry under such a system, than he would be to 
dwell in a house built on an insecure foundation."* 

The surprise of this estimable prelate, at finding 
that a man of Howe's latitude and catholicity 
should have scrupled at the terms of conformity, 
has probably been felt by many others. Yet to 
dismiss for a moment the fact, already insisted 
on, that it was this very " latitude and catho- 

* Of Dr. Wilkins, Calamy has preserved the following amusing 

anecdote : — ■ 

' ' This Dr. Wilkins was ever a great enemy to rigour and severity. When 
he was made a Bishop by King Charles II. , (which was not compassed with- 
out considerable difficulty, ) I have been credibly informed, he waited on the 
famous Dr. Cosins, Bishop of Durham, among other spiritual lords, and 
desired his company at his consecration dinner. Upon this occasion Bishop 
Cosins entered into a free discourse with him, about moderation on the one 
hand, and a vigorous supporting the ecclesiastical constitution on the other. 
Bishop Wilkins frankly told his lordship, that for his part, it was his 
apprehension, that he who was by many (with ill nature enough) reflected on 
for his moderation, was in reality a better friend to the church than his lord- 
ship, who was for rigorously supporting the constitution. Bishop Cosins 
seeming surprised, Bishop Wilkins added this as the reason of his assertion : 
For while you, my lord, said he, are for setting the top on the piqued end 
downwards, you won't be able to keep it up any longer than you continue 
whipping and scourging; whereas I, says he, am for setting the broad end 
downward, and so it will stand of itself. 'Tis a pity this good Bishop died 
so soon as 1672, and did not live till the revolution in 1688." 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



107 



licity," which, on general grounds, made Howe 
reluctant, — what can be more obvious, than that the 
most magnanimous contempt for petty scruples, and 
the utmost liberality of temper, could not preserve 
the conscientious man from ejection, if he really did 
not concur in propositions (let the subject-matter of 
those propositions be ever so insignificant) to which 
" an unfeigned assent" is demanded ? To lay little 
stress on things of comparatively little importance, 
is the mark of an enlarged mind ; but to " declare" 
a solemn " assent," and to back that assent by an 
equivalent subscription, to propositions, which, 
whether in themselves important or not, we believe 
to be false, would be the grossest violation of the 
law of conscience. 

Thus the apparent paradox which perplexed the 
worthy Bishop is susceptible of a very easy solution. 
Many of the most pertinacious and quarrelsome 
might readily conform, if they possessed a pliable 
conscience ; and many of the most liberal-minded 
would infallibly be ejected, if they possessed a 
scrupulous one. There are many things enjoined in 
the " Book of Common Prayer," for example, which 
a man might think of little moment, and the con- 
sequence of such latitude of opinion would be, that 
he would allow every one to form his own judgment 
of them ; but it by no means follows, that he could 
solemnly declare and subscribe 66 an unfeigned 
assent " to them. 

It is well known, that the ejected ministers justi- 
fied their nonconformity on widely different grounds ; 
the obstacles which appeared insurmountable to one, 



108 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



occasioned no difficulty at all to another; and, as 
might be expected from their diversities of intellect 
and education, of habit and prejudice, the reasons 
they alleged for their conduct varied in force and 
importance, from scruples* the most narrow-minded 
and childish, to objections well worthy of the most 
candid and serious consideration. The points on 
which the comprehensive mind of Howe principally 
fastened, have been already mentioned. It would 
have been interesting to possess a full account of his 
objections. Unfortunately, of the two sermons 
preached on the day of his ejectment, not a syllable 
remains; but, from his still extant writings, it is clear 
what they chiefly were. 

It has been sometimes represented, that the plea 
of conscience in the case of the ejected ministers 
was absurd and ridiculous, inasmuch as the very 
things at which conscience hesitated, were " indif- 
ferent" or u unimportant." But, supposing this true, 
could this relieve in the slightest degree the diffi- 
culties of those, who, like Howe, did not believe all 
the points on which they hesitated " indifferent" or 
u unimportant ; " or prove that any other course was 
open to them, than that which they actually took ? 
Let us just for a moment, and for the sake of argu- 
ment, suppose them so : — are those who so frequently 
urge this view of the case, prepared to affirm, — and 
unless they go this length, their reasoning is altoge- 

* It is never to be forgotten, however, in treating this subject, that even 
such scruples, if really conscientious, deserve compassion rather than ridicule ; 
or at least, that if the scrupulosity, which transforms evident trifles into 
matters of importance, be ridiculous at all, the pertinacity which makes 
compliance necessary, in matters so trifling, cannot be less so. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



109 



ther illogical, — that all conscientious objections, re- 
specting matters which others pronounce indifferent 
— for of course, by supposition, the parties themselves 
do not think them so — are at once to be abandoned ? 
Suppose, for example, an edict had been issued in 
the early ages of the church, that no Christian 
should henceforth scruple to eat meat offered to idols 
— which the Apostle Paul declares indifferent enough 
— ought the scruples of those who still conscien- 
tiously demurred, to be at once renounced ? The 
Apostle has satisfactorily settled the question by 
saying, — in accordance with the dictates of nature 
and of common sense, as well as the conclusions of 
all the soundest moralists, — that to him who thinks 
it sinful, it is sin. A really conscientious objection, 
though it should be about the most insignificant 
thing that ever divided the opinions of mankind, 
cannot be dismissed in this summary way. We 
may pity the man's fond prejudices — we may, if we 
will, laugh at his imbecility ; but, while the objec- 
tion still retains its force, he has only one path of 
conduct honourably open to him. 

If it be replied, it is not because the men were 
conscientious, but because, out of a factious spirit, 
they pretended to be so when they were not, — that is 
another thing. But none who have charity will accuse 
them of this, unless they can claim to be "discerners of 
spirits." Meantime, if it were true, we must wonder 
at the pertinacious folly of the accused, who could 
embrace poverty, degradation, and ruin, for no 
advantage whatever ! Even if we could imagine 
some few to have been idiots enough to act thus ; 



no 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



still, to suppose that the great bulk of the ejected 
ministers were not impelled by a sense of duty which, 
even to preserve their dearest interests, they dared 
not disregard, is to suppose a total subversion of all 
the principles of action which ordinarily regulate 
human conduct, on a scale seldom exhibited before 
or since. 

Some are willing to admit that if the ejected 
ministers really had conscientious objections to the 
oaths and subscriptions required of them, they could 
not with honour conform ; but at the same time 
profess pity for understandings which could be 
fettered by prejudices so weak and scruples so 
frivolous. Compassion for the imbecility of such 
men as Howe and Baxter, would at all events be a 
novel exhibition of the sentiment, and entitle him 
who professed to feel it, to be compassionated in his 
turn, for his ignorance and presumption. This, 
however, leads to a brief re- consideration of the 
point, which, as already stated, was conceded only 
for the sake of argument. Surely, it may justly be 
argued, matters to which such men objected, — men 
possessing minds so enlarged, and knowledge so 
ample, — could not be so utterly indifferent as they 
have been often represented. I have already said, 
that if they had been in themselves indifferent, it 
would little matter as far as the question of conscience 
and duty is concerned ; what I further insist on is, 
that, considering the character of the men, it is 
eminently improbable that they should have been 
indifferent. 

When it is urged that the ejected ministers were 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



Ill 



needlessly scrupulous about things " indifferent or 
insignificant," it is often forgotten that the oaths, 
subscriptions, and unfeigned assent and consent 
demanded of them extended to a great variety ot 
matters, which differed by every conceivable degree 
of importance. Some of them, it is true, were " in- 
different" enough, and the scruples they excited 
may perhaps surprise us : but others involved con- 
siderations of such magnitude, that they might well 
exercise the most enlarged understanding and per- 
plex the most enlightened conscience. There were 
not only cobwebs to catch insects, but nets, in the 
meshes of which even noble animals might struggle 
in vain. 

This led. as already stated and as might be ex- 
pected, to a corresponding difference in the grounds 
on which the ejected ministers justified their non- 
conformity. The sufficiency or insufficiency of those 
grounds could not be determined merely by the fact 
of nonconformity; since the "Act of Uniformity" 
made "him who was guilty in one point guilty in 
all" A separate examination of the reasons alleged 
by the several parties can alone decide this question; 
and to represent the men in general as needlessly 
and frivolously scrupulous, because some were so, is 
grossly unfair. 

Whether it was reasonable to demand rigorous 
compliance with all — even the most minute — requi- 
sitions of the "Act of Uniformity," Churchmen, no 
less than Dissenters, have pretty well decided in our 
day ; and that many of them respected no " insig- 
nificant" or "trifling" matters, can hardly be denied. 



112 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



But even supposing an individual to have no 
specific objections to any of the above requisitions ; 
supposing he merely took his ground on some 
matters of ceremonial, which he himself acknow- 
ledged to be in their own nature " indifferent," still 
it does not follow that he might not plead objections 
which, whether really sound or unsound, cannot at 
all events be deemed frivolous. 

If any believed, for instance, (as Howe and many 
did,) that rites and ceremonies of purely human 
origin, for which, by the confession of all parties, there 
was no inevitable necessity,* ought not to be intro- 
duced into public worship, or, that things, which 
are in their own nature " indifferent," should be left 
to every man's judgment and conscience, — to them 
it was not a matter of " indifference" whether they 
proceeded to sanction a principle which might serve 
to justify far more extensive innovations in matters 
of ceremonial, on the ground that they were " in- 
different," or were left undetermined by Scripture. 
Many things may be confessedly " indifferent" in 
their own nature, which can no longer be considered 
so, the moment it is demanded that we should act as 
though they were not. In this case, it is not the 

* This was the case, be it recollected, with some of the matters of 
ceremonial which were objected to. — Nevertheless, the bulk of the ejected 
ministers did not wish that such things should be prohibited in the service of 
the church, but that their observance should not be made compulsory . They 
would have been satisfied, if every man had been allowed to use his own 
liberty in such matters. Whether the men who pleaded for such reasonable 
latitude, or the then rulers of the church, (who, even to prevent a great 
schism, refused to surrender one of the ceremonies which they themselves in 
the same breath confessed were not absolutely necessary,) were the more 
unwisely pertinacious, let posterity judge. 



LTFE OF HOWE. 



113 



value of the concession that determines the contro- 
versy, but the principle involved in it. 

Once more : even if the ejected ministers had 
conceded all the matters to which they objected, in 
the Common Prayer, to be in themselves " indiffe- 
rent," yet, as public functionaries, they might not 
think it " indifferent/' (as was Howe's case,) whether 
they had the power of accommodating themselves to the 
scruples of those among their audience who had not 
arrived at the same latitude of opinion, or were com- 
pelled to restrict the benefit of their labours to those 
only who on such matters thought with themselves. 
For example, a minister might think it very " in- 
different" whether he used the sign of the cross in 
baptism or not, but he might not think it indifferent 
whether he was to exclude those from that rite alto- 
gether, who had conscientious objections to the 
accompanying ceremonial. 

If any one will candidly weigh the preceding 
observations, I cannot but think he will be disposed 
to admit that neither were all the matters imposed 
on the ejected ministers, indifferent or unimportant 
in themselves; nor, if they had all been so, was 
it u indifferent," whether they conformed or not; 
that, on the contrary, there was abundantly sufficient 
to justify hesitation without supposing the recusants 
to be either over-scrupulous fools or factious hypo- 
crites. 

But, lastly, if the matters about which the ejected 
ministers scrupled were, indeed, so " indifferent," 
(and it is those who imposed them, who most loudly 
declared they were so,) there can hardly be a doubt 



114 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



that it would have been more wise and more Chris- 
tian, not to demand compliance in these instances at 
all. Their " indifference" is an argument which 
tells both ways, or rather, which tells much more 
powerfully one way than the other ; since it was 
much more easy for the one party to refrain from 
imposing a condition which they proclaimed to 
be indifferent, or, at all events, which they could 
not say they were conscientiously obliged to impose, 
than for those to comply with it, who declared they 
conscientiously believed it not to be " indifferent ;" or 
who, if they believed it in its own nature indifferent, 
had, on other and more general grounds, conscien- 
tious objections to compliance. If, indeed, the framers 
of the "Act of Uniformity" had declared that they 
were conscientiously obliged to impose those terms 
with which the ejected ministers could not conscien- 
tiously comply, the argument would have been equal 
on both sides. Under such circumstances, and so 
long as it remains true that u an erroneous conscience 
obliges," none could blame, however all might 
lament, the conduct of the authors of the " Act of 
Uniformity." But until such a plea (never yet heard 
of) be advanced, it is hardly worth while to consider 
it. To be told that the licentious Charles, and his 
profligate advisers, or even that Lord Chancellor 
Hyde and Archbishop Sheldon were, like the ejected 
ministers, troubled with scruples of conscience in this 
matter ; and that these were so strong as to compel 
them to render the cross in baptism, kneeling at the 
sacrament, and the use of the ring in marriage, 
obligatory, would be enough to discompose the 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



115 



gravity of the gravest historian. Yet this alone 
would be an adequate defence. If both parties had 
been equally infected with the same troublesome 
disease of conscience, nothing could be said, but that 
the one was compelled to impose conditions which 
the other must continue to reject. Until such a plea 
is admitted, however, or at least pretended, it will 
be reasonably maintained, that the more plainly 
" indifferent" the matters which the church imposed, 
the more imperative was the duty not to impose 
them. To relax needless rigour on the one side, 
was, in the actual circumstances, easy; compliance 
on the other, impossible. 

It is often said, indeed, that all chinches must 
have some terms of communion. True ; but if it 
really wishes to render its pale as wide as possible, 
in other words to exclude the smallest number of 
sincere Christians, it will insist, if it be possible, 
on nothing as necessary to admission, but what 
the Scripture declares to be so ; or if it deem itself 
obliged to decide on some lesser matters, which 
Scripture leaves undetermined, it will take care that 
these shall be as few as possible. The question is, 
were these the principles by which the trainers of 
the Act of Uniformity were actuated ? If not, and 
it seems nearer the truth to suppose that their object 
was the very reverse,* it is no argument to say, that 

* There seems abundant reason to believe that the main object of some of 
the authors of the Act of Uniformity, was the exclusion of the Presbyterian 
clergy, and that this was the reason of the strictness with which it was framed. 
The language of Sheldon, of whom Burnet says, that he seemed not to have any 
clear sense of religion, if any at all, and that he spoke of it most commonly, 
as of an "engine of government and a matter of policy," is well known. 



116 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



every church rnust have some terms of admission and 
communion ; because, though this is true, it does not 
follow that a church is justified in multiplying them 
confessedly beyond necessity; in imposing any which 
itself is compelled to admit it is not conscientiously 
obliged to impose, on those who, at the same time, 
are conscientiously obliged to reject them. 

But though Howe was an ejected minister, he could 
not consent to be a silenced one. He still continued 
in Devonshire, availing himself of every opportunity 
of preaching in private houses those truths, which he 
was no longer permitted to proclaim in public. Such 
conduct, as may be supposed, soon brought him into 
trouble. 

Having preached at the house of a gentleman 
whom he had been visiting for a few days, he found 
on returning home that an officer from the Bishop's 
court had been to apprehend him, and not finding 
him, had given notice that citations were out against 
both Howe and his friend.* 

With characteristic promptitude, Howe, the next 
morning, went to Exeter. While standing before 
the gate of the inn at which he had put up his 
horse, and anxiously pondering the course which 

When Lord Manchester remarked to the king, that he was afraid the terms 
of uniformity were so rigid that the ministers would not comply with them, 
Sheldon replied, " I am afraid they will." 

Thus to gratify party-spirit, the church lost nearly two thousand Ministers, 
many of whom ranked amongst the most pious, diligent, and exemplary of 
her Clergy. 

* The Bishop of Exeter at this time was no other than Dr. Seth Ward, 
whose cause Howe had so effectually pleaded before Cromwell. Though 
Dr. Ward afterwards unrelentingly enforced the severe laws against the 
nonconformists, it is pleasing to reflect that he manifested on this occasion 
a grateful sense of Howe's former kindness. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



117 



it would be best for him to pursue, a dignitary of 
the church, to whom he was known, came past, and 
recognising Howe, asked him, " what he did there ?" 
" Pray, Sir," replied Howe, " what have I done that 
I may not be here ?" His friend informed him that 
a process was out against him, and that being so well 
known, he would find the utmost vigilance necessary 
to secure himself from being apprehended. He then 
asked Howe, " whether he would not wait on the 
Bishop?" Howe, who wished not to appear too 
solicitous about the matter, and yet to have an 
opportunity of meeting the charges of the court 
without seeming to have sought it, replied, " that he 
had no intention of doing so, unless his lordship, 
hearing of his being in the city, should invite him." 
His good-natured friend took the hint, and engaged, 
if Howe would wait in the mean time at the inn, to 
let his lordship hear of his being in the city. In 
a short time he returned with the intelligence that 
the Bishop would be glad to see him. 

When Howe was introduced, his lordship received 
him with much politeness, and treated him as an 
old acquaintance. He soon, however, began to use 
the freedom of an old acquaintance, by expos- 
tulating with him on his nonconformity. like 
Bishop Wilkins, he asked him his reasons. Howe 
replied, that without taxing his lordship's patience 
beyond all decency, he could not give such an 
account of his objections as justice to himself required. 
The Bishop then requested him to mention any one 
of the points at which he scrupled. On this Howe 
specified re-ordination. " Pray, Sir," said the Bishop, 



118 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



"what hurt is there in being twice ordained ?" 
"Hurt, my Lord," rejoined Howe, "it hurts my 
understanding; the thought is shocking; it is an 
absurdity; since nothing can have two beginnings. 
I am sure I am a minister of Christ, and am ready 
to debate that matter with your lordship, if your 
lordship pleases ; but I cannot begin again to 
be a minister." The Bishop dismissed him with 
strong expressions of regard, assuring him that if he 
would conform, he might have considerable prefer- 
ments. Howe then took his leave ; and as the Bishop 
said nothing of the process that was out against him, 
his visitor, in conformity w T ith the plan he had laid 
down, also abstained from all allusion to the subject ; 
wisely concluding, that if the Bishop intended to 
proceed against him, he would hardly have failed, on 
such an occasion, to mention it. The event justified 
his inference ; as neither he nor his friend heard any- 
thing more about the matter. 

In 1665, the parliament assembled at Oxford 
passed an act, by which nonconformist ministers 
were called upon to swear that it was not lawful, 
upon any pretence whatsoever, to take arms against 
the king ; that they abhorred the traitorous position 
of taking arms by his authority against his person, 
or against those commissioned by him, in pursuance 
of such commission ; and that they would not at any 
time endeavour any alteration of the government, 
either in Church or State.* 

* The hard penalty attached to a refusal to take this oath was, ' ' not being 
allowed, except on the high road, to come within five miles of any city, or 
corporation, or any place that sent burgesses to parliament, or any place 
where they had been ministers, or had preached, since the Act of Oblivion." 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



119 



The nonconformist ministers, as might be ex- 
pected, were much divided in their opinions about 
the propriety of taking this oath. At length about 
twenty, amongst whom was Dr. Bates, took it in 
London ;* about twelve, amongst whom was Howe, 
in Devonshire ; j* and a few in Dorsetshire. 

On this occasion, Howe made the following candid 
and explicit declaration of the principles on which 
he took the oath in question. Nothing could be 
more abhorrent from his nature, than to avail him- 
self of any ambiguity in the terms of the oath, or 
of any - evasive interpretation of its meaning. In 
his estimation such conduct would have been fraud 
of the most iniquitous description. The sophistical 
casuistry, by which such practices have sometimes 
been defended, is with great brevity, but great 
clearness, exposed in this declaration ; and, indeed, 
as Calamy truly observes, " it states the matter of 
oaths in general, as judiciously and fully as can well 
be supposed or imagined in so narrow a compass." 

" 1. My swearing is my act. 2. The obligation I hereby 
contract is voluntary. 3. Swearing in a form of words pre- 
scribed by another, I adopt those words, and make them my 
own. 4. Being now so adopted, their first use is to express 

* The principal thing which satisfied those of the nonconformist ministers 
who took the oath, was the declaration of the Lord Keeper Bridgman, that 
by endeavours to change the government was meant unlawful endeavours. 
The pressure of the act was so severe, that its victims were naturally glad to 
avail themselves of any honourable method of gaining exemption from the 
severe penalties attached to a refusal to take the oath. 

+ The names of those who took the oath in Devonshire, (as Calamy ascer- 
tained from a manuscript of a Mr. Quick,) were John Howe, Humphrey 
Saunders, Gunnery, Mortimer, Parre, Francis Whiddon, Fairant, Wilkins, 
Bin more, Barry, Cleveland, and Baily. The last two took it before the act 
came into force ; the others, subsequently, at the county sessions. 



120 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



the true sense of my heart, touching the matter about which 
I swear. 5. Their next use, as they have now the form of an 
oath, is to assure him or them who duly require it from me, 
that what I express by them is the true sense of my heart. 
6. ,r Tis repugnant to both those ends, that they should be con- 
strued (as now used by me) to signify another thing than what 
I sincerely intend to make known by them. 7. If the words 
be of dubious signification, capable of more senses than one, I 
ought not to hide the sense in which I take them, but declare 
it, lest I deceive them whom I should satisfy. 8. That declara- 
tion I ought to make, if I have opportunity, to them whose 
satisfaction is primarily intended by the oath ; if not, to them 
whom they entrust and employ. 9. This declared sense must be 
such as the words will fairly bear, without force or violence." 

When Howe and the others appeared in court, for 
the purpose of taking the oath, one of their number 
made the following declaration of what they con- 
ceived its tenor and import : — 

" I confess I have had some doubts concerning this oath ; 
but understanding, partly by discourse about it with some who 
concurred in making of the law, and partly by consideration 
of the law itself, and other laws, that the oath hath no other 
meaning or end, than to secure the person of the King's 
Majesty, and his authority, whether in his person or commis- 
sioners, and the government in Church and State, from being 
shaken or subverted, by any unpeaceable or seditious endea- 
vours, out of our place and calling, I am abundantly satisfied 
to tender myself to this honourable court, for the taking of it." 

To this declaration, which prevented all possibility 
of pretence that the oath had been evasively dealt 
with, the court made no objection. Under these 
circumstances the oath was administered.* 

* Two of them, Fairant and Wilkins, took it with this limitation : "so far 
as the laws of man are agreeable to the word of God j" a limitation which 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



121 



Calamy says, lie had been told that in this year 
(1665) " Howe was imprisoned for two months, in 
the Isle of St. Nicholas."* That his father-in-law, 
G-eorge Hughes, and his brother-in-law, Obadiah 
Hughes, had recently been imprisoned there, and 
for a much longer period, is certain. On what 
grounds he supposes Howe himself to have been thus 
hardly dealt with, I know not. The name of his 
informant, and the reason for which he gave credit 
to the information, he has neglected to mention. As 
he admits, however, that he knew " nothing of the 
occasion of this imprisonment, or of what was alleged 
to justify it, or in what way Howe obtained deliver- 
ance it may be doubted whether his information 
was correct. 

That Howe, about this time, had been called to 
sustain some severe affliction is indeed evident from 
an affecting letter, which he wrote to his brother-in- 
law, Obadiah Hughes, shortly after that gentleman 
and his aged father had been set at liberty. Part of 
it is as follows : — 

" Blessed be Grod, that we can have, and hear of, each 
other's occasions of thanksgiving, that we may join praises 
as well as prayers, — which I hope is done daily for one another. 
Nearer approaches and constant adherence to God, with the 
improvement of our interest in each other's heart, must 
compensate (and I hope will abundantly) the unkindness and 
instability of a surly treacherous world, that we see still retains 
its wayward temper, and grows more peevish as it grows 

does not seem to have awakened any suspicions in those who imposed it. 
But much stranger things were thought " agreeable to the laws of God" in 
those days. 

* Near Plymouth. 

G 



122 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



older, and more ingenious in inventing ways to torment 
whom it disaffects. It was, it seems, not enough to kill by 
one single death, but when that was almost done, to give 
leave and time to respire, to live again, at least in hope, that 
it might have the renewed pleasure of putting us to a further 
pain and torture in dying once more. Spite is natural to 
her. All her kindness is an artificial disguise ; a device to 
promote and serve the design of the former with . the more 
efficacious and piercing malignity. But patience will elude 
the design, and blunt its sharpest edge. It is perfectly 
defeated when nothing is expected from it but mischief; for 
then the worst it can threaten finds us provided, and the best 
it can promise, incredulous, and not apt to be imposed upon. 
This will make it at last despair and grow hopeless, when it 
finds that the more it goes about to mock and vex us, the 
more it teaches and instructs us ; and that as it is wickeder, 
we are wiser. If we cannot, God will outwit it, and carry 
us, I trust, safe through, to a better world, upon which we 
may terminate hopes that will never make us ashamed." 

The expressions in this letter, however, by no 
means warrant us to conclude, that Howe had been 
subjected to the same rough treatment as the rela- 
tives with whom he thus condoles. Unhappily, the 
afflictions of an ejected minister were too various, 
sprang from too many sources, to sanction such a 
hasty inference. Degrading and painful as imprison- 
ment might be, it was not the worst that could befall 
him. He was often called to endure trials far more 
severe ; trials, compared to which the most protracted 
imprisonment was light and trivial. To wander 
forth with his family, (as was the lot of many of 
them,) without a home, or to sit over a desolate 
hearth, and listen to the cry of his famishing children, 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



123 



— these were the severest trials of an " ejected 
minister." 

Indeed, in reading the history of the persecutions 
with which the various parties of Protestants have, 
at different periods, assailed each other, a very pain- 
ful reflection can hardly fail to suggest itself. Though 
the spirit of persecution has been less bloodthirsty 
and unsparing amongst those parties than under the 
papal domination, and therefore less detestable, its 
comparative lenience, and moderation of purpose, 
must often have occasioned (quite undesignedly it is 
admitted) more suffering than would have resulted 
from a more summary and less scrupulous cruelty. 
The brief horrors of the stake — the momentary pang 
which at once dismissed the weary spirit to its ever- 
lasting rest, would often have been gladly preferred 
to that slow, protracted torture, which was inflicted 
on manv of the sufferers for religion during the 
seventeenth cent my. 

The privations and sorrows of those who were 
more dear to them than their own lives, the sordid 
wants by which they were oppressed, the contempt 
with which they were treated, the intense solicitude, 
the perpetual suspicion which robbed them of peace 
by day, and haunted their sleep by night, must have 
wrung with anguish many a heart which would not 
have faltered at the stake. Martyrdom might have 
been borne, nay, in many instances, would have 
been most welcome ; but long years of penury and 
destitution, with the maddening spectacle of a starv- 
ing family, — these must have been worse than many 
martyrdoms. 

G 2 



124 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



Whatever the sorrows or sufferings to which Howe 
alludes in the above letter, it is plain he had well 
learned how to bear them ; or rather, to convert 
them into sources of instruction and improvement. 
Every line of it breathes the serenest resignation, 
the loftiest and most unbroken spirit of hope, 
patience, and superiority to the world. 

For several years Howe continued to lead the life 
of a fugitive and wanderer ; staying now with one 
friend, now with another; literally " preaching from 
house to house," and procuring a precarious and 
slender subsistence by performing any service, how- 
ever humble, of which he was capable. His bitter 
recollections of this period of his life, seem to have 
suggested that brief but vivid description which he 
gave of the condition of the ejected ministers, in a 
document published nearly forty years after. " Many 
of them," said he, "live upon charity; some of 
them with difficulty getting, and others (educated 
to modesty) with greater difficulty begging, their 
bread." 

At length, impelled perhaps by necessity, he 
published his justly admired treatise, entitled 
" The Blessedness of the Righteous." It was pub- 
lished in 1668, and seems to have met with all the 
success it so well deserved.* It was the substance 
of sermons preached during his residence at Great 
Torrington. — Some time during this year, it appears 

* This, it appears, was not his earliest production ; in 1660 he published 
the sermon entitled "Man's Creation in a Holy but Mutable State." It was 
inserted in the "Morning Exercises Methodized." 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



125 



that Howe was at Bath for the benefit of his 
health.* 

All remarks of a critical nature upon Howe's works 
will be reserved for the close of the volume; but 
the preface to " The Blessedness of the Righteous" 
is so characteristic of the author — breathes such 
a noble and catholic spirit — evinces a mind so 
deeply intent on the great realities of religion — and 
displays such magnanimity and elevation of feeling, 
that I cannot pass on without commending it to the 
special attention of the reader. It conveys to us, 
indeed, a more accurate, as well as more impressive 
idea of the author, than the most elaborate descrip- 
tion of the ablest biographer. Nor is this " Preface" 
destitute of other, though, it will be admitted, 
inferior claims to attention. Viewed simply as a 
piece of composition, its merits are of no mean 
order. The masculine thought which pervades it, 
the striking illustrations with which it is enlivened, 
and even its occasional felicities of expression and of 
style, (not often met with in the writings of our 
author,) render it well worthy of perusal. We may 
find room for a sentence or two : 

" I am not at all solicitous, that the world should know the 
history of the conception of this treatise. ... If there 
be anything that shall recompense the pains of such as may 
think fit to give themselves the trouble of perusing it, in the 
work itself, I should yet think it too much an undervaluing 
of them, if I did reckon the minuter circumstances relating 
thereto fit matter for their entertainment. . . . Nor am 

* Life of Rev. Joseph. Alleine, page 96. 



126 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



I more concerned to have it known what were the induce- 
ments to the publication of it. Earnest protestations and 
remonstrances of our good intentions in such undertakings, 
as they leave men still at liberty to believe or doubt at their 
pleasure, so they gain us little if they be believed. It is no 
easy matter to carry one, even, constant tenor of spirit 
through a work of time. Nor is it more easy to pass a 
settled, invariable judgment concerning so variable a subject ; 
when a heart that may seem wholly framed and set for God 
this hour, shall look so quite like another thing the next, and 
change figures and postures almost as often as it doth 
thoughts. And if a man should be mistaken in judging 
himself, it would little mend the matter to have deceived 
others also into a good opinion of him. But if he can 
approve himself to God in the simplicity of an honest and 
undeceived heart, the peace that ensues is a secret between 
God and him. ' They are theatre enough to one another,'* 
as one said to his friend. It is an enclosed pleasure ; a joy 
which the stranger cannot intermeddle with. 

" It is therefore any man's concernment herein rather to 
satisfy himself than the world ; and the world's, rather to 
understand the design of the work than the author; and 
whither it tends, rather than whereto he meant it. And it is 
obvious enough, to what good purposes discourses of this 
nature may serve. This is, in the design of it, wholly prac- 
tical ; hath little or nothing to do with disputation. If there 
be any whose business it is to promote a private, divided 
interest, or who place the sum of their religion in an incon- 
siderable and doubtful opinion, it doth not unhallow their 
altars, nor offer any affront to their idol." 

* Seneca. 



CHAPTER V. 



FROM 1669 TO 1677. 

HOWE ENVTTED TO EECOilE CT f A PLAIN TO LORD MASS AE ENE, OF ANTE EM CASTLE 
ACCEPTS THE SITUATION— REMOTES W ITH HIS FAMILY TO IRELAND PRO- 
BABLY THE HAPPIEST PERIOD OF HIS LIFE — NATURE OF HIS EMPLOYMENT — 

UNIVERSAL RESPECT HE CONCIL IA TED PUBLISHES HIS " VANITY OF MAN AS 

MORTAL" — CIRCUMSTANCES IN WHICH IT ORIGINATED — PUBLISHES HIS '"DE- 
LIGHTING IN GOD" — THE PREFATORY LETTER — REFLECTIONS — COMPOSES 
THE FIRST PART OF HIS " LIVING TEMPLE M — -IS INVITED TO THE PASTORAL 
CHARGE OF A CONGREGATION IN LONDON — SELF-EXAMINATION PREVIOUS TO 
LEAVING ANTRUM — REFLECTIONS — REMOVES HIS FAMILY TO LONDON — KLNG 

CHARLES'S INDULGENCE — REMARKS HOWE PUBLISHES THE FIRST PART OF 

HIS ' ' LIVING TEMPLE. " 

About a year, or a little more, after the publication 
of " The Blessedness of the Righteous," and per- 
haps in consequence of the deserved reputation 
which he acquired bv it, Howe was invited to 
ecome domestic chaplain to Lord Massarene,* of 
trim Castle, Ireland ; and the invitation, flatter- 
ing in itself, was accompanied bv verv advantageous 
offers. The proposal, even if it had been less 

* Originally Sir Joan SkeiEngton, of Fisherwick, Staffordshire, (fifth 
—"net.) He became Viscount Massarene in right of his wife, Mary, the 
nly daughter of Sir John Clotworthy, who, having been very active in the 
storation of Charles EL, was rewarded with the title of Lord Massarene. 
owe's patron, therefore, was second Lord Massarene. He was active in the 
volution of 168& He died June 21, 1695. 



128 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



tempting, would have been backed by an argument 
perfectly resistless : — he was by this time in neces- 
sitous circumstances. How, indeed, could it be 
otherwise ? He had now been ejected six years, 
and during this period had subsisted on an income, 
which, even if it had been less precarious, was 
miserably insufficient, and, unhappily, was as pre- 
carious as it was scanty. Poverty brought with it 
the deeper anguish and solicitude, that it found him 
with a young and numerous family. 

Under these circumstances he did not hesitate 
long. Gratefully embracing the offer of Lord 
Massarene, he set sail for Dublin early in the year 
1671.* He embarked at some port in Wales, which 
Calamy conjectures to be Holyhead. 

While waiting at this place for a fair wind, a 
circumstance occurred which showed both his anxiety 
to avail himself of every opportunity of doing good, 
and the impressive character of his preaching. 

It appears that he was detained at the port for 
more than a week. On the Sunday, he was of 
course anxious, if not to preach, at least to hear the 
gospel ; but though there was a large parish church, 
there was no preaching, it being the practice of the 
clergyman only to read prayers. 

As there were many who, like Howe, were wait- 
ing for a fair wind, they were anxious to find some 
secluded spot in which he might preach to them. 
While they were seeking some such place on the 
sea-shore, they met two persons on horseback riding 

* Calamy says in April; but, for reasons hereafter to be assigned, it would 
appear to have been somewhat earlier. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



129 



towards the town, "who proved to be parson and 
clerk." One of the party accosted the latter, and 
asked him, whether his master would preach that 
day? "My master," replied the clerk, "is only 
accustomed to read prayers." He then asked whether 
the clergyman would have any objection to allow a 
minister who was tarrying in the town, waiting to 
embark for Ireland, to occupy his pulpit for that 
day. He replied, that he believed that his master 
would willingly comply with such request. Upon 
this the proposal was made, and the clergyman 
instantly acceded to it. Howe accordingly preached 
twice in the parish church that day. In the after- 
noon, the congregation was very large, attentive, 
and apparently much affected. 

The wind continued contrary all the next week ; 
and the people having heard of Howe's destination, 
and observing that the vessel had not left the port, 
thronged the church on the Sabbath morning in 
expectation of again hearing the stranger, who 
had preached in a style so impressive, and to 
them so novel. The clergyman, who had quite 
forgotten the whole matter, and had doubtless ex- 
pected only the usual quiet audience, was con- 
founded at this prodigious concourse of people. 
Totally unprovided himself to meet the exigency, he 
hastily despatched his clerk to implore Howe's 
assistance : declaring, that "if he would not come 
he knew not what to do, for that the country had 
come in from several miles round, in the hope of 
hearing him." The messenger found Howe, who 
had been much indisposed, in bed. On being told 

G 3 " 



130 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



the cause of this strange summons, he was at first in 
doubt whether he ought to venture ; but reflecting 
that he knew not how much good might be done by 
his efforts, amongst a people who seemed eager to 
hear the word of God in proportion to the rarity of 
their opportunities of hearing it, he resolved to risk 
it. He afterwards declared that he had seldom 
preached with more fervour and energy, and never 
saw a congregation more attentive or devout. He 
at the same time added, " If my ministry was ever 
of any use, I think it must be then." A few days 
after, he set sail for Ireland. 

After remaining a short time at Lord Massarene's, 
his whole family joined him. 

The years Howe spent in Ireland were probably 
the happiest in his life. Under the protection of a 
powerful patron, and in the enjoyment of a com- 
petent income, he quietly pursued his two most 
cherished employments, — the ministry of the gospel 
and the study of divinity. 

Antrim Castle, even then a noble structure, though 
it has gradually reached its present scale of grandeur 
by successive enlargements since that period, is 
situated in the midst of the most magnificent scenery. 
The spacious and fertile domain is watered by a 
beautiful lake, called Lough Neagh, from which the 
Lords Massarene took one of their titles.* 

It was here that Howe revised and published 

* "Antrim Castle adjoins the town from whence it takes its name; a view 
up the principal street of which is commanded from the parapet of an adjoin- 
ing terrace-garden, ascended from the castle-yard by a handsome flight of 
stone steps. It is enclosed from the town by a gateway, and stands on a 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



131 



his sermon entitled " The Vanity of Man as Mortal," 
and his valuable little treatise on " Delighting in 
God." It was here also that he prepared for the 
press, the first part of his greatest work, " The 
Living Temple." The deep solitude and the romantic 
beauty of the scenes in which he now dwelt, well 
harmonized with the tendencies of a mind so con- 
templative and so fond of abstraction. To the 
opportunities of prolonged and solitary meditation 
which such scenes afforded, we are perhaps, in some 
degree, indebted for the sustained sublimity, the 

walled terrace, overhanging the river Ovenoeen, or Six Mile Water, which 
flows into the vast waters of Lough Neagh, within sight of the castle, at 
about the distance of a quarter of a mile. 

"This castle is among the few found to be preserved in Ireland, of those 
erected in pursuance of the injunctions of the grant made by James L, for 
the protection of the colonies or plantations then about to be established. 
The building was raised, as appears by an inscription on a large carved 
mantel of stone, covering the centre of the principal front, in the year 1613, 
by Sir Hugh Clot worthy, and has been subsequently altered, according to the 
different tastes of its successive proprietors. 

" The front of the castle is also decorated with the armorial bearings of 
the family, and those of their alliances, surmounted by the royal arms of 
England, and a carved head, in relief, of Charles L 

' ' The suite of rooms is extensive and modern, the entire castle having 
undergone a thorough repair in the time of the last Earl of Massarene. The 
exterior towards the court has been restored, by the present possessor, to the 
character of the period in which it was originally erected. 

' ' Few places in Ireland command greater power of beauty, or extent of 
drive. Its demesne and deer-park stretch along the shore of Lough Neagh 
for above two miles, ornamented with fine old timber and copse wood, 
covering every headland, down to the water's edge, with various plantations, 
calculated to blend in the scenery of as rich and highly cultivated a country 
as any to be found in Ireland. The view over the lake towards the south is 
bounded only by the horizon, while towards the west it rests on the distant 
Tyrone and Derry mountains, and the nearer woods of Shane's Castle, the 
ancient seat of Earl O'Neile, whose towers project into the lake itself. These 
two fine domains, indeed, embrace, with their woods and pleasure grounds, 
the whole bay of Antrim, an extent of six or seven miles." — NmVs Seats. 



132 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



noble sentiments, and the subtle trains of abstract 
reasoning, with which the works he produced at this 
period of his life abound. 

It is not a little singular, that not many years 
before, in the same part of Ireland, and under cir- 
cumstances very similar, was produced the larger 
part of another of the many great works which 
adorn the theology of our country. I allude to the 
" Ductor Dubitantium" of Jeremy Taylor. When 
the Episcopal party was under a cloud like that 
which in its turn overshadowed the " ejected 
ministers," Taylor found, in the patronage of the 
Earl of Conway, the protection which Howe now 
enjoyed in that of Lord Massarene ; and amidst the 
magnificent and romantic scenery which encircled 
the seat of his noble patron, composed the greatest 
part of his comprehensive treatise on casuistry. The 
work which Howe produced at Antrim Castle, 
though on a subject totally different, deserves 
equal celebrity. Both works indicate intellect of 
the highest order, though of character as different as 
the subjects of which they respectively treat. 

Nothing can more strongly evince the rare con- 
junction of excellence that must have met in Howe — 
his catholic temper, his consummate prudence, his 
unaffected modesty, his insinuating manners — than 
the fact, quite unprecedented, that the Bishop of 
the diocese, in concurrence with the wishes of his 
Metropolitan, permitted him, without any demand 
of conformity, to preach at Antrim church every 
week. The Archbishop is even reported to have 
publicly told his clergy, that he could wish every 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



133 



pulpit in his province to be open to the distinguished 
nonconformist. 

Within a very short time after his arrival in Ire- 
land, certainly within a month or two, he published 
the first of the three works above mentioned, " The 
Vanity of Man as Mortal." Of all his smaller pieces, 
this, perhaps, has been most read, and most admired. 
It was written on one of the most affecting occasions 
that can well be conceived ; an occasion calculated 
to stir the deepest emotions of a mind, which, indeed, 
scarcely needed any such extraordinary admonitions 
of Providence to enforce — what it habitually felt — 
the vanity of mortality and of time. The event to 
which reference is now made, was the death of 
Mr. Anthony Upton, the son of John Upton, Esq., of 
Lupton, in the county of Devon, a relative of Howe's. 
This son had been absent in Spain for more than 
twenty years, and had at length, at the earnest 
entreaties of his friends, consented to return home. 
His family having received intimation of the pro- 
bable period of his arrival, it was arranged that there 
should be a meeting of his brothers and sisters, and 
all his other near relations, at his father's house, 
to celebrate the joyous occasion of his return. They 
assembled accordingly ; but what was their conster- 
nation, when the vessel which was to have brought 
their long-lost friend, brought him in his shroud ! 
It appears that, immediately after he had made 
arrangements for embarkation, he had been attacked 
with some violent disease, which in a few days ter- 
minated his life ; so that the first notice his friends 
had of this sad event, (to use the language of Howe 



134 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



in his Dedicatory Epistle,) -"was tile arrival of that 
vessel clad in mourning attire, which, according to 
his own desire in his sickness, brought over the 
deserted body to its native place." The family who 
had arranged their meeting under such far happier 
auspices, instead of assembling, as they had expected, 
to greet him after his long absence from his country, 
met only to " celebrate the mournful solemnity of his 
interment." 

All remarks of a critical nature on this sublime 
discourse, will, as usual, be reserved for the proper 
place. I may here make special mention, however, 
of the Dedicatory Epistle, both because it is in itself 
a striking composition, and because it serves to 
determine some few points respecting the time and 
circumstances of Howe's removal to Ireland. It is 
dated from Antrim, April 12, 1671. The date alone, 
coupled with the fact that he u had suspended his 
consent to the publication of this discourse" (com- 
posed before he left England) " till a copy had been 
transmitted for his inspection," would be a sufficient 
proof that the time* Calamy has assigned for his 
removal to Ireland cannot be correct. This ' ' Epistle," 
however, mentions a circumstance which at once 
removes all doubt on the subject. In one part of it 
Howe adverts to a letter, which, "in consequence of 
his removal to Ireland, had not come, till long after" 
its date, "to his hands." These words certainly 
imply, that when he wrote this prefatory letter he 
had been at Antrim at least some weeks. — This 
letter also shows that Howe had been in London a 

* April, 1671. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



135 



short time previous to his taking up his abode at 
Antrim Castle. 

One noble passage, in which he laments the spread 
of that infidelity which naturally flourished in the 
profligate age of the second Charles, and to which 
the " Mortality" of man was the most welcome doc- 
trine, is worth citing : 

"If he that, amidst the hazards of a dubious war, betrays 
the interest and honour of his country, be justly infamous, 
and thought worthy severest punishments, I see not why a 
debauched sensualist, that lives as if he were created only to 
indulge his appetite ; that so vilifies the notion of man, as if 
he were made but to eat, and drink, and sport, to please only 
his sense and fancy ; that in this time and state of conflict 
between the powers of this present world, and those of the 
world to come, quits his party, bids open defiance to humanity, 
abjures the noble principles and ends, forsakes the laws and 
society of all that are worthy to be esteemed men, abandons 
the common and rational hope of mankind concerning a 
future immortality, and herds himself among brute creatures : 
I say, I see not why such a one should not be scorned and 
abhorred as a traitor to the whole race and nation of reason- 
able creatures, as a fugitive from the tents and deserter of the 
common interest of men ; and that, both for the vileness of his 

practice and the danger of his example 

" One would think whosoever have remaining in them any 
conscience of obligation and duty to the common Parent and 
Author of our beings, any remembrance of our divine 
original, any breathings of our ancient hope, any sense 
of human honour, any resentments of so vile an indignity to 
the nature of man, any spark of a just and generous indigna- 
tion for so opprobrious a contumely to their own kind and 
order in the creation, should oppose themselves with an 
heroic vigour to this treacherous and unnatural combination. 
And let us, my worthy friends, be provoked, in our several 



136 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



capacities, to do our parts herein; and, at least, so to live 
and converse in this world, that the course and tenor of our 
lives may import an open asserting of our hopes in another ; 
and may let men see we are not ashamed to own the belief of 
a life to come. Let us, by a patient continuance in well- 
doing, (how low designs soever others content themselves to 
pursue,) seek honour, glory, and immortality to ourselves ; 
and by our avowed, warrantable ambition in this pursuit, 
justify our great and bountiful Creator, who hath made us 
not in vain, but for so high and great things ; and glorify 
our blessed Redeemer, who, amidst the gloomy and disconso- 
late darkness of this wretched world, when it was overspread 
with the shadow of death, hath brought life and immortality 
to light in the gospel. Let us labour both to feel and express 
the power of that religion which hath the inchoation of the 
participated divine life for its principle, and the perfection 
and eternal perpetuation thereof for its scope and end." 

It has been mentioned that Howe published his 
treatise on " Delighting in God," during his stay at 
Antrim Castle. It first appeared in London, in 1674. 
It purports to be the substance of a series of sermons, 
preached many years before at Great Torrington, 
and is prefaced by a most affectionate letter to his 
friends there. 

For the same reasons which induced me to offer a 
remark or two on the preface to the " Blessedness of 
the Righteous," I shall not dismiss the introductory 
letter just mentioned without observation. It dis- 
plays, in common with all the author's writings, a 
spirit supremely intent on those great truths in 
which Christians are agreed, and consequently dis- 
posed to form a very moderate estimate of the points 
in which they differ. Not that he would represent 
these last as matters of no importance at all ; or con- 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



137 



tent himself with the exercise of that spurious charity, 
which consists simply in laxity of opinion ; a charity 
which disposes its possessors to agree with all parties, 
simply because they belong to none. His charity is 
of a very different complexion. He declares that he 
"is not indifferent about those matters which he 
cannot discern to be in their own nature so he 
pretends not " to be without his opinions about those 
smaller things he is simply anxious to unite an 
open and honest avowal of those opinions, with a 
mild and forbearing spirit : he will not surrender his 
own judgment out of a regard for charity ; but he 
endeavours — and this is the real difficulty — to vindi- 
cate truth in the spirit of love. There is a beautiful 
passage in which, while he contends that on those 
points which divide Christians, he must adopt the 
opinions which, after mature deliberation, he believes 
to be right, he at the same time admits, that even 
where he is most confident of being in the right, the 
possibility of error should still teach caution and 
humility ; and that even on the supposition that he 
is in the right, there can be no ground for any over- 
weening conceit of superiority, since " of every dif- 
fering party, he knows some by whom he finds him- 
self much excelled in far greater things, than is the 
matter of their difference." How rare was such a 
spirit as this in that day ! How rare even in our 
own ! 

The whole composition displays an elevation of 
mind and an amplitude of charity, to be found only 
in one who already dwelt on the confines of heaven. 
Nothing but this could have so defecated the judg- 



138 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



rnent from all yulgar prejudices, and composed the 
spirit to so serene a temper. From the lofty eleva- 
tion he had attained, he daily looked out on the 
solemn and tranquil scenes of the eternal world, and 
as he gazed on them, the turbulent passions of his 
fellow-men, and the noisy controversies of the age, 
disturbed him as little as the hum of a distant village 
might be supposed to interfere with the musings of 
some contemplative spirit, eyeing a far-spread and 
glorious prospect in the last fading and solemn splen- 
dours of a summer sunset. 

Nor does this letter exhibit in a less striking point 
of view, Howe's truly pastoral character. The ties 
which bound him to his early and humble flock, 
were not like those which too often subsist between 
a minister and his people, — slight, and easily severed. 
They resembled those which subsist between a 
parent and his children,— ties, the strength of which, 
neither time, nor even neglect and ingratitude, can 
impair. Those to whom he had once been a spiritual 
father and guide, seem to have been for ever graven 
on his memory ; and in the spirit of an apostle, he 
never " bowed his knees before the Grod and Father 
of his Lord," without " making mention " of them. 
No lapse of time, no change of circumstances, could 
banish the scene of his early labours, or abate his 
interest in his flock ; and now, after a lapse of twenty 
years, he again addresses to them his paternal 
rebukes and his paternal benedictions. With what 
solemnity, with what fidelity, with what passionate 
earnestness, does he apply himself to this task ! Is 
it possible that any of them could read the expostu- 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



139 



lations with which it closes, — expostulations con- 
ceived in such a spirit of exquisite pathos and 
melting tenderness, — without being softened into 
tears ? 

The following passages are very characteristic : 

" Great reason I have to repent, that I have not with 
greater earnestness pressed upon you the known and im- 
portant things wherein serious Christians do generally agree. 
But I repent not I have been so little engaged in the hot 
contests of our age, about the things wherein they differ. 
For, as I pretend to little light in these things ; (whence I 
could not have much confidence to fortify me unto such 
an undertaking ;) so I must profess to have little inclination 
to contend about matters of that kind. Nor yet am I indif- 
ferent as to those smaller things, that I cannot discern to be 
in their own nature so. But though I cannot avoid to think 
that course right which I have deliberately chosen therein, I 
do yet esteem that but a small thing upon which to ground 
an opinion of my excelling them that think otherwise, as if I 
knew more than they. For I have often recounted thus 
seriously with nryself ; that of every differing party in those 
circumstantial matters, I do particularly know some persons 
by whom I find myself much excelled in far greater things 
than is the matter of that difference. I cannot, it is true, 
thereupon say and think everything that they do ; which is 
impossible, since they differ from one another as well as me. 
And I understand well, there are other measures of truth 
than this or that excellent person's opinion. But I there- 
upon reckon I have little reason to be conceited of any advan- 
tage I have of such in point of knowledge, (even as little as 
he should have, that can sing or play well on a lute, of him 
that knows how to command armies or govern a kingdom,) 
and can with less confidence differ from them, or contend 
with them ; being thereby, though I cannot find I err in 
these matters, constrained to have some suspicion lest I do ; 



140 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



and to admit it possible enough that some of them who differ 
from me, having much more light in greater matters, may 
have so in these also. Besides, that I most seriously think 
humility, charity, and patience, would more contribute to the 
composing of these lesser differences, or to the good estate of 
the Christian interest under them, than the most fervent dis- 
putes and contest ations." .... 

He thus concludes : 

"I bow my knees for you all, that a living, delightful 
religion may flourish in your hearts and families, instead of 
those dry, withered things, worldliness, formality, and strife 
about trifles : which will make Torrington an Hephzibah, a 
place to be delighted in ; your country a pleasant region ; 
and (if he may but hear of it) add no little to the satisfaction 
and delight of 

" Your affectionate servant in Christ, 
" Who most seriously desires your true prosperity, 

" John Howe. 

" Antrim, Sep. 1, 1674." 

Howe remained in Lord Massarene's family about 
five years. In 1675, he was invited to London, to 
take the charge of the congregation recently under 
the pastoral care of Dr. Lazarus Seaman, just de- 
ceased. Dr. S. was one of the most able, learned, 
and influential of the metropolitan ministers. He 
was a strict Presbyterian, and an advocate of the 
Jus divinum of that form of church polity. He died 
September 9, 1675. For some time before his death 
he had shared the pastoral charge with Dr. Thomas 
Jacomb, who continued for some years to hold the 
same relation to his successor.* 

* See the Appendix to Howe's Sermon on "Patience in Expectation of 
Future Blessedness." 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



141 



As there was some division of opinion amongst 
the congregation, (many of whom were anxious to 
secure the services of the well-known Stephen Char- 
nock,) and as it was impossible to obtain by letter 
a full knowledge of all the circumstances on which 
his decision must depend, Howe resolved on a voy- 
age to England before he replied to the application. 
Previous to his departure from Ireland on this im- 
portant object, he subjected his motives and feelings 
to a most conscientious and rigid examination. His 
thoughts on this occasion he minuted down, under 
the title of — 

" Considerations and Communings with myself concerning my 
present Journey. Dec. 20, 75, by Night, on my Bed. 

"I. Qusere — Save I not an undue design or self-respect in it ? 

"1. I know well I ought not to have any design for 
myself, which admits not of subordination to the interest and 
honour of the great God, and my Redeemer, and which is 
not actually so subordinated. 

" 2. I understand the fearful evil and sinfulness of having 
such an undue design ; that it is idolatry, the taking another 
god, and making myself that god. 

" 3. I find (through God's mercy) some sensible stirrings 
of hatred and detestation, in my breast, of that wickedness, 
and a great apprehension of the loveliness and beauty of 
a state of pure, entire devotedness to God in Christ, and of 
acting accordingly. 

" 4. I have insisted on this chiefly in prayer to God, in 
reference to this business, ever since it was set on foot, that 
I might be sincere in it ; and though I have earnestly begged 
light to guide me therein, so as that I might do that herein 
which in the substance of the thing is agreeable to the holy 
will of God, yet I have much more importunately prayed 
that I might be sincere in what I do ; not only because 



142 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



I know God will pardon ignorance (unremedied by utmost 
endeavours) where lie beholds sincerity, whereas he will 
never accept the knowledge of our duty, nor the doing what 
is in substance our duty, if that right manner of doing it, or 
principle whence it is done, be wanting ; but, also, from the 
higher esteem I have of sincerity, above all light and know- 
ledge without it, and the greater excellence of the thing 
itself. 

u 5. I have carefully examined what selfish respects I can 
have in this matter. Is it worldly emolument ? In this my 
heart acquits me in the sight of God. Is it that I affect to 
be upon a public stage, to be popular and applauded by men P 
To this I say, 1. That I do verily believe, that I shall be 
lower in the eye and esteem of the people in London, when I 
come under their nearer view. I know myself incapable of 
pleasing their genius. I cannot contrive nor endure to 
preach with elaborate artifice. They will soon be weary, 
when they hear nothing but plain discourses of such matters 
as are not new to them. Yea, and- ministers that now judge 
of me by what I have written, (when matter and words were 
in some measure weighed,) will find me, when I converse 
with them, slow to apprehend things, slow to express my 
own apprehensions, unready, entangled, and obscure in my 
apprehensions and expressions : so that all will soon say, 
' This is not the man we took him for/ 2. It displeases me 
not, that they should find and say this. I hope I should 
digest it well. 3. I have found (blessed be God) that the 
applauses some have imprudently given me in letters, (as 
I have received many of that strain, very many long before 
this business, and that had no relation unto any such, that no 
eye hath ever since seen but my own,) an occasion and 
means to me of deep humiliation, when my own heart hath 
witnessed to me my miserable penury, and that I am thought 
to be what I am not. 4. So far as I can find, I do not 
deliberately covet or desire esteem but for my work's sake, 
and the success of my work. Of applause I have often found 
an inward abhorrence. I both know I have nothing but 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



143 



what I have received, and that I have received a great deal 
less than many think I have : which I say with reflection on 
myself ; not to diminish the bounty of the Free- giver, from 
whom I know I might have received much more, if I had 
sought and used his gifts aright. All the design I can more 
vehemently suspect myself of that looks like self-interest any 
way, is, 1. The improvement of my own knowledge, which I 
know, there may be great opportimities for, if this journey 
should issue in my settlement at London. 2. The disposal of 
my children. Yet I hope these things are eyed in sub- 
ordination, and indifferently, so as not to sway with me 
against my duty. 

"II. Quaere — Save I not a jjrevious resolution of settling at 
London before I go uj) ? 

" 1. I have a resolution to do what I shall conceive shall 
make most to the usefulness of the rest of my life, which 
resolution I ought never to be without. 

"2. I am seriously yet at a loss as to judging this case, 
whether in this country or there. 

" 3. If I can find clearly it is my duty to return in order 
to continuance at Antrim, I shall do it with high com- 
placency. 

"III. Quaere — Am I not afraid of miscarrying in this under- 
taken voyage, by shijncreclx, 8fc. ? 
" 1. I find little of that fear, I bless God. 
" 2. Nor is it that I think I have attained any eminent 
degree of grace, that I am not afflicted with that fear : nay, 
more than that, I acknowledge, to be delivered from such fear 
is itself a great mercy, and gracious vouchsafement. 

"3. I hope I am in a state of favour and acceptance with 
God, which I apprehend I owe to infinite rich mercy in the 
Redeemer's blood. Great forgiveness I need, for I am a 
miserable sinful wretch: this I trust I have upon gospel 
terms. 

" 4. It is pleasant to me hereupon to think of going into 
eternity; of laying down the body of flesh, and sin, and 



144 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



death, together ; and of being perfectly holy, and associated 
with them that are so, in holy work and enjoyment. 

"5. To put off this tabernacle so easily, I reckon would to 
me be a merciful dispensation, who am more afraid of sharp 
pains than of death. I think I should joyfully embrace 
those waves that should cast me on an undesigned shore, and, 
when I intended Liverpool, should land me in heaven. 

" 6. Yet I bless God I have no weariness of life, nor of his 
work in this world, if he shall yet please further to employ 
me here. 

"IV. Quaere — But am I not solicitous, lest if this should 
prove the event, it will be judged a testimony against me, as to 
this present undertaking ? 

"1. It is an honest design I go upon. I have, as I said, 
no selfish design that oversways me in it. I have no design 
to prejudice Mr. Charnock. I believe I shall do him no 
actual prejudice. Wherein I can justly befriend him, I go 
resolved to do it. If I can do anything for the holding of 
the remainder together, without the neglect of greater work, 
I do apprehend I shall do a just and needful thing; but 
should do nothing if I had opportunity, till I knew more. 
But, 

"2. To judge of the justice of a cause by the success, is a 
most unjust way of judging. Many a just business has mis- 
carried. If I get well into the other world, such censures 
will be a small matter in my eye ; and they are not great 
now. x 

" 3. Grod will accept my sincere intentions, though I effect 
nothing. 

" 4. My journey was to me absolutely necessary, who could 
without it neither grant nor deny. 

" Consolations to my wife and other relations, supposing they hear 
of my death. 

" 1. Whom or what have you lost ? A poor creature that 
could never be of much use to you. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



145 



" 2. You are to consider me, not as lost in my prime, but 
as now I am, sensibly under great decays, and not likely to 
continue long, except some means hitherto not thought on 
should have been tried. What a summer had I of the last ! 
seldom able to walk the streets ; and not only often disabled 
by pain, but weakness. And what great advantage to you 
would it have been to see me die ? I know not when I have 
had so much ease and health as in this journey. 

" 3. God not only hath determined the thing, we must die, 
but all circumstances, when and where, and after what 
manner, and all wisely and well. Why should you be 
grieved, that he hath done well ? not only well in itself, but 
well for you, if you love him ? 

" 4. You must ere long follow, and shall not be always in 
this world without me. 

" 5. What there is of evil in this case, admits of remedy. 
Draw so much nearer to God, and cease from man : mind 
heaven more, and your loss is made up. 

"6. I have, through the grace of Grod, preached immortal 
truth, which will survive, and may be to your advantage. 

" 7. As to you who have dependence upon me for worldly 
concernments : I was never a good projector for the world ; so 
the loss is not great. How many, dear to Grod, make a shift, 
in a worse condition ! Forget not the motto, ' Grod will pro- 
vide.' He that feeds ravens, and takes care of sparrows, will 
he not take care of you ? Are you of his family, and will he 
not take care of his own ? Instead of distrust and repining, 
give thanks. Oh bless him with all your soul, that he hath 
revealed and given himself to you for an everlasting portion ; 
and whose covenant is to be your Gfod, and the God of 
yours. 

" 8, Let it be some satisfaction to you, that I go willingly, 
under no dread, with no regret, but with some comfortable 
knowledge of my way and end." 

Who can read these musings of an upright and 

H 



146 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



conscientious mind without the deepest admiration ? 
It is true that in the minuteness of this self-examina- 
tion, and the precision and formality with which it 
is prosecuted, we are reminded of the excessive 
scrupulosity of the times, and of the too systematic 
method in which the spiritual casuist was in the 
habit of treating " cases of conscience," as they were 
called. In the present instance, it may, perhaps, be 
admitted that Howe need not have inquired so 
industriously, whether he was likely to be swayed 
in a transaction so important by the fear of ship- 
wreck,* or by the uncharitable judgments which 
others might form of him, if he should be ship- 
wrecked. | It might be justly contended, that con- 
siderations such as these could not have had much 
influence on his final decision; or that, if they 
operated as motives at all, it was in a degree so 
very slight as not to entitle them to a formal 
investigation.^ Yet, though there may be in these 
passages a little too much of the superfluous minute- 
ness and self-suspicion, which were so character- 
istic of the age, who could wish to blot them out ? 
What an enviable state of mind do they manifest ! 
How especially beautiful is that sentence : " I think 
I should joyfully embrace those waves that should 

* As in Query III. f As in Query IV. 

% Still something may be said in his defence even with reference to these 
points. With regard to the first, it is not to be forgotten that a voyage 
from Ireland was not in those days the trifle it would be considered now ; 
and with regard to the second, proof is but too abundant, that in defiance 
alike of common sense, daily experience, and Christian charity, the ordinary 
calamities of life were, in those times, too often considered special judicial 
marks of the Divine displeasure. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



147 



cast me on an undesigned shore, and when I in- 
tended Liverpool, should land me in heaven." 

As a whole, none can read this soliloquy of a 
sensitive conscience, without feeling convinced that 
to Howe, (as stated in the introductory chapter,) 
duty was a study. To ascertain conscientiously in 
every case what duty was, and to perform it from 
the right motives, "were evidently the great objects of 
his life ; and rapid, indeed, is the progress in holi- 
ness and virtue likely to be, when, in every im- 
portant step in life, motives and conduct are sub- 
jected to such a severe and rigid scrutiny. 

Nor is it less to the purpose to remark that there is 
nothing in the above self-examination, scrupulous as 
it is, which betrays the slightest taint of a fanatical 
spirit. There is no pretence to superhuman purity 
of motive — no fond disclaimer of human feelings and 
passions : if these last be but innocent, Howe seeks 
not their extinction, nor even that they should not 
be duly gratified ; he is only anxious that they should 
be in their proper place ; strongly subordinated to 
higher and more important principles of action,* 

The fourth and fifth paragraphs (Query IV.) are 
very beautiful; the modesty they display, the 
humility, the purity of feeling, the superiority to 
every form of petty vanity, the secret dissatisfaction 
at human applause, (arising from the exalted con- 
ceptions he had formed of absolute excellence, com- 
bined with his consciousness that he was still so 
very far from having reached that standard,) are 
calculated to inspire the liveliest admiration. The 

* See close of observations on Query I. 

H 2 



148 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



confessions of his own unworthiness which are con- 
tained in these passages, entirely free, as they are, 
from every symptom of affectation, and evidently 
never intended for any eye but his own, only endear 
him to ns the more ; and, as we read them, we feel 
that in this, as in other and more important respects, 
those words of Christ are true, 66 He that humbleth 
himself shall be exalted." 

After staying some time in London, and giving 
the whole subject mature deliberation, he resolved 
on accepting the invitation which he had received 
from Dr. Seaman's congregation. He, in conse- 
quence, shortly after removed with his- family 
from Antrim Castle, deeply grateful for the protec- 
tion its noble owner had afforded him. With Lord 
and Lady Massarene, he maintained a friendly 
intercourse till their death in 1695. In 1676, the 
year after his departure, their daughter Mary was 
married to Sir Charles Hoghton, of Hoghton Tower, 
in the county of Lancaster ; on which occasion, 
Howe addressed the newly wedded pair in the 
following characteristic letters, written on the same 
sheet of paper. They bear no date, but the mar- 
riage itself determines it. 

" Most honoured Sir, 

" I thankfully acknowledge the favour of your wel- 
come lines, which ought to be most entirely so, both upon 
the account of the author and the matter of them. For 
though my opportunity for so desirable an acquaintance hath 
been but little as to the circumstance, it hath been much as to 
the substance of what I know of you, in ways that gave me 
greatest assurance, before I had the happiness of oral con- 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



149 



verse with you. Nor could any thing be more grateful to 
me, than to read you from your own hand so related, and so 
well pleased (as I doubt not you will be daily more and more) 
with your relation, and the other accessory correlates, with 
whom God hath cast your lot. 

"I believe you have much reason to bless God, (who 
orders all things to the best advantage to such as sincerely 
give themselves up to his conduct,) that he led you not into 
such a condition and state of life as he now at length hath 
brought you into, before you were well acquainted with the 
rules and duties of it, better than to need help from such a 
one as I. But among the many other precepts that concern 
that case, I dare adventure to recommend those of 1 Cor. vii. 
29, 30, 31, and pursuantly thereto, to offer to your thoughts, 
that this can be but a partial temporary felicity, and so far 
only so at all, as it is enjoyed only as mediate and subservient 
to the full and final felicity, which we are professedly seeking 
and waiting for ; so far ought it to be, to oppose it, or let it 
be an obstruction thereto : which is the nature of all good 
things that have only the goodness of the means, and not of 
the end, that their goodness is variable, and by misapplication 
may degenerate into a hurtful evil. Within the compass of 
such things is the truth of those words to be confined ; Nil 
prodest, quod non Icedere possit idem. It is beyond the mea- 
sure of any created good to be universally so. That there- 
fore which in its own place is a real good, applied to the par- 
ticular purpose which it is capable of serving, — out of that 
place, and being trusted, valued, and delighted in beyond the 
measure which God and the nature of the thing have stated 
and set, may become a hurt to us. 

" But there can be no greater or more endearing obligation 
to use any mercy for God, than an habitual fixed sense of its 
having been received from him, and a deeply radicated and 
often repeated agnition of his sovereign hand in ordering it 
to be our lot, with all the circumstances that have had any 
reference thereto.- For what ingenuous heart can endure to 



150 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



oppose to him, or employ against him, the (apprehended) fruit 
of his own favour and kindness ? a pledge of his paternal 
love and care so understood ? And therefore the greater the 
gift is (still considered under that strict notion) the stronger 
is the inducement to honour and serve the giver with it, and 
to enjoy according to his prescription, what we enjoy not but 
by his vouchsafement. 

"If to all this I should add a request to you to be exceed- 
ing kind to my most dear and honoured friend, it were the 
greatest impertinence in all the world. For she, having such 
a temper to work upon, will make you so whether you will or 
no : and I might as well use arguments to persuade a fragrant 
flower to send forth its grateful odours, when a most benign 
orient sun is plying it with its cherishing morning beams. 
Such may you long be, both of you mutually (sun and flower) 
to each other, shining and flourishing with all the influence, 
and under the continual blessing of Heaven. So shall you 
communicate a part of that joy, which I most entirely wish 
you, to 

" Sir, 

" Your very faithful and affectionate humble Servant, 

"J. Howe." 

" Whatsoever leisure, most dear and honoured Madam, you 
may suppose me to have, I had little reason to suppose Sir 
Charles and yourself to have much, from the reading of one 
another, to cast your eyes upon anything I could write. 
But if after this paper shall have lain one quarter of a year 
somewhere near your dressing-box, you find it not un- 
seasonable to bestow a glance upon it, you will then at length 
find your disappointment. For it will tell you nothing but 
what you well knew, or might easily guess before ; that 
having a constant most affectionate respect and honour for 
you, I cannot but be highly pleased that you are so [happy], 

"And methinks it should not much surprise you, if I 
further say, I would have you somewhat to alter (or make 
your exception to) your own rule, and not show the less 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



151 



kindness to Sir Charles for that he is a married man. This 
will not be strange to you, if you remember some of your last 
winter lines. 

"After this hath made you smile a little, as that of yours 
did me, then think that this novelty in your condition will 
neither make nor allow you to smile always, though I hope it 
will add a great deal to the comfort and pleasantness of your 

days. And you may sometimes have occasion to think 

seriously together, of the sense of those words, Luke xiv. 26. 
And always remember the subordination that- all creature- 
love must be in, to that of the supreme object of our love. 
How pleasant a thing will it be to have hearts united and 
consenting in the resolution of loving him perpetually above 
all, to whom we owe our all, and who is altogether lovely ! 
to consult and conspire together, how most to promote his 
interest, and improve in acquaintance with him, and confor- 
mity to him. This I believe your heart to be much formed 
to beforehand. The great care must be, that such resolutions 
do not gradually languish. We find many are apt by un- 
observed degrees to starve the good affections and inclina- 
tions which they would abhor to assassinate by a sudden 
violence. I write securely, that such an intimation will by 
so great a kindness as yours, be very well taken, from 
" Your Ladyship's 

" Most affectionate humble Servant, 

" J. Howe." 

During the time Howe was in Ireland, King 
Charles had published his celebrated " Declaration 
of Indulgence."* Calamy says, that upon his re- 
turn to London, he "made a quiet and peaceable 
use of this Indulgence." This, however, must be an 
error, for the Declaration was revoked in the spring 
of 1673 ; that is, as soon as Charles wanted his next 



1672. 



152 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



subsidy. For such a cause, he would have been 
willing to repeal the whole decalogue. 

It is quite true, however, that it still served in 
some measure to protect the nonconformists, as it 
tended to diminish the hostility of those who had 
more reverence for the royal prerogative than for 
the two houses of parliament. Amongst these per- 
sons (as Baxter assures us) might be reckoned a 
large number of the magistrates, whose loyalty for 
once was happily at variance with their bigotry. 
Although, therefore, the recall of the Indulgence left 
the nonconformists in fact exposed to all the severe 
laws which had been enacted against them, their 
condition was upon the whole somewhat ameliorated. 
If we may believe Calamy,* the liberty which 
Charles's Indulgence gave them, was not entirely 
lost, though constantly diminishing, till the year 
1681. 

The reasons which prompted Charles to put forth 
this Indulgence, as well as the history of its recall, 
are well known. 

As to the first, suffice it to say, that the whole 
history of Charles's reign, and especially his conduct 
in 1675, preclude the charitable suspicion that he 
was actuated by the slightest regard to the princi- 
ples of toleration, or that he was visited by any 
foolish feelings of remorse on account of his past 
severities. In all such respects Charles II. was one 
of the most consistent of mankind. 

His true reason seems to have been the same 
which, a few years after, led to a similar measure on 

* Life and Times, vol. i. p. 72. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



153 



the part of that miserable dotard, James II. It was 
an anxiety to exempt the Papists from persecution. 

The Indulgence was no sooner published, than it 
was vehemently opposed by both houses of parlia- 
ment, on the just ground that to dispense with any 
existing laws on the sole authority of the Crown, 
w r as an invasion of the rights of the legislature, and 
an unwarrantable and dangerous stretch of the 
royal prerogative. Accordingly, when Charles stood 
in need of his next subsidy ', it was revoked. 

While the Indulgence was in force, however, one 
would think that all the nonconformists might have 
gladly availed themselves of it. Yet, strange to 
say, some of them, in the excess of their scrupulosity, 
doubted whether they would be justified in resuming 
those sacred rights of which neither kings nor parlia- 
ment could justly deprive them, in a manner so 
informal ! Had they, indeed, been called upon to 
justify the unwarrantable extension of the preroga- 
tive, or to acknowledge that their privileges might 
be granted or resumed at the king's pleasure, the 
case would have been different. But they were 
called to do nothing of the kind. All that was 
necessary, was to avail themselves of a happy 
accident ; to resume a natural right, which no law 
of man could righteously invade ; leaving the king 
and parliament in the meantime to settle their dis- 
putes as they best could. Their conduct was almost 
as absurd as that of a man who, having been most 
unjustly imprisoned, and finding his oppressors 
quarrelling about the propriety of detaining him, 
should consult his conscience, whether he could right- 

h 3 



154 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



fully step out at the door which in their dispute 
they had left open, or avail himself of such an 
unusual method of regaining his freedom. It is 
such instances of perverse scrupulosity as these that 
give edge, because they give some plausible appear- 
ance of truth, to the bitter satire of Butler : 

" The self-same thing they will abhor 
One way, and long another for. 
Free-will they one way disavow ; 
Another, nothing else allow. 
Rather than fail, they will defy 
That which they love most tenderly ; 
Quarrel with minced pies, and disparage 
Their best and dearest friend, plum-porridge. " * 

Howe was not plagued with any of this excessive 
conscientiousness. He on this, and every subse- 
quent occasion, appears to have eagerly availed him- 
self of every fair opportunity of securing his own 
peace and fulfilling the great ends of his public 
ministry. 

Such was the regard which his talents, learning, 
and worth conciliated, that his nonconformity did 
not prevent his being on the most intimate terms 
with many who already were, or who afterwards 
became, some of the most distinguished ornaments 
of the Establishment. Amongst others may be men- 
tioned Stillingfleet, afterwards Bishop of Worcester ; 
Tillotson, afterwards Archbishop of Canterbury; 
Sharp, afterwards Archbishop of York ; Drs. Which- 
cot, Kidder, Fowler, and Lucas. 

Very soon after his removal to London, appeared 
the first part of his largest and most celebrated 

* Hudibras, part i. canto 1. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



155 



work, " The Living Temple. 7 ' It was prepared, as 
already mentioned, during his residence at Antrim 
Castle ; and on this account is, with great propriety, 
dedicated to the u Lord Viscount Massarene, gover- 
nor of the county of Londonderry, and one of the 
Lords of His Majesty's most honourable Privy 
Council in the kingdom of Ireland." The dedica- 
tions of that age, in general, were conceived in the 
spirit of the grossest and most fulsome adulation, 
and it is often hard to say who were the more con- 
temptible, the authors who could compose or the 
patrons who could relish them.* Those of Howe 
were of a more manly stamp ; although it must be 
confessed, that even he is sometimes a little infected 
with the complimentary folly of the times. 

This Dedication, however, is so full of noble 
thoughts, expressed in a style so manly, that its 
length alone prevents me from inserting it entire, 
nor should any reader enter the " Temple" itself 
without pausing in its vestibule. One short but 
characteristic passage I shall extract. 

" But as this temple is quite of another constitution and 
make, than that at Jerusalem, and (to use those words of the 
sacred writer) ayj.ipo~oii]To^, tovt£<ttiv, ov ravnys tt)s ktIct€cds 

* There is often a -whimsical contrast between the dedications of that age 
and the works to which they are prefixed ; especially when those works turn 
on any of the more fiercely agitated points of controversy. The spirit of 
the one is so bland and gentle, that it would seem as though the author 
could not by possibility chop a harsh or uncourteous word : that of the other 
so coarse and savage, that mahgnity and scorn would appear to be the only 
elements in his composition. In passing from the one to the other, the sensa- 
tion is much the same as though, in taking a draught of some excessively sweet 
and luscious liquor, it had, by some magical process of acetation, been all at 
once turned into verjuice. 



156 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



e not made with hands, that is to say, not of this building,' — so 
what is requisite to the interest and service of it, is much, 
of another nature. Entire devotedness to God, sincerity, 
humility, charity, refinedness from the dross and baseness of 
the earth, strict sobriety, dominion of one's self, mastery over 
impotent and ignominious passions, love of justice, a steady 
propension to do good, delight in doing it, have contributed 
more to the security and beauty of God's temple on earth, 
conferred on it more majesty and lustre, done more to procure 
it room and reverence among men, than the most prosperous 
violence ever did." 



CHAPTER VI 



FROM 1677 TO 1678. 

ANDREW MARVELL's DEFENCE OE HOWE, AGAINST THOMAS DANSON's ATTACK 
ON THE TREATISE OF " DIVINE PRESCIENCE." 

As the following , chapter will probably contain 
little to interest the general reader, I may apprize 
him that it may be omitted without impairing the 
continuity of the narrative, since it is almost wholly 
parenthetical. 

If the reader should chance to belong to that class, 
who, when they have once been induced to commence 
a volume, make it a point of conscience — no matter 
what its bulk, or how repulsive its contents— to read 
right on from the title-page to the end, and on whom, 
I well know, all premonitions of the ruggedness or 
inconveniences of the road would be totally lost, — 
even for such there is consolation : the chapter will 
be a brief one. 

But to the curious in literary history, and to the 
admirers of Andrew MarvelPs genius, I feel that no 
apology is necessary. They will probably think a 
chapter which has in it so much of Andrew Marvell, 



158 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



and so little of the author, by far the most interest- 
ing in the volume. 

That I may not detain them, therefore, from 
matter which I know will be so much more grateful to 
them than any observations of mine, I shall simply beg 
their attention to a short detail of the circumstances 
which led to the curious publication from which 
the following extracts are made, and then dismiss 
them, to enjoy those extracts at their leisure. I 
would merely remark further, by way of whetting 
their appetite, that the tract in question is extremely 
rare ; that it is not published in any edition of 
Mar veil's works, and was evidently unknown to his 
biographers and editors. I know of only one copy 
in existence — the one from which the subjoined 
extracts have been transcribed.* This I procured 
from Dr. Williams' library. 

In 1677, Howe, at the request of the Hon. Eobert 
Boyle, published his little treatise, entitled, u The 
Eeconcilableness of God's Prescience of the Sins of 
Men with the Wisdom and Sincerity of His Counsels 
and Exhortations, and whatever other means He 
uses to prevent them." The motives which induced 
him to write it are given in the following short pre- 
fatory letter to his illustrious friend : — 

" Sir, 

" The veneration I have long had for your name, 
could not permit me to apprehend less obligation than that of 
a law, in your recommending to me this subject. For within 

* This rare tract has since been reprinted, together with Howe's 
treatise which evoked it, by rny late excellent and venerated friend, Dr. 
John Brown, of Edinburgh, in a series of " Theological Tracts. " Vol. iii. 
pp. 75—138. Edin. 1854. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



159 



the whole compass of intellectual employment and affairs, none 
but who are so unhappy as not at all to know you, would 
dispute your right to prescribe, and give law. And taking a 
nearer view of the province you have assigned me, I must 
esteem it alike both disingenuous and undutiful wholly to 
have refused it. For the less you could think it possible to 
me to perform in it, the more I might perceive of kindness, 
allaying the authority of the imposition ; and have the appre- 
hension the more obvious to me that you rather designed in 
it mine own advantage, than that you reckoned the cause 
could receive any, by my undertaking it." 

Admirable as the tract is, it appears the author 
composed it under very disadvantageous circum- 
stances ; and for its supposed defects, he offers at the 
close the following needless apology : — 

" The disorder, Sir, of this heap rather than frame of 
thoughts and discourse, as it cannot be thought more unsuit- 
able to the subject, than suitable to the author ; and the less 
displease, by how much it could less be expected to be other- 
wise, from him, even in the best circumstances ; so it may lay 
some claim to your easier pardon, as having been, mostly, 
huddled up in the intervals of a troublesome, long journey ; 
wherein he was rather willing to take what opportunity the 
inconveniencies and hurry of it coidd allow him, than neglect 
any, of using the earliest endeavour to approve himself — as he 
is your great admirer — 

" Most honoured Sir, 
" Your most obedient, humble Servant." 

All remarks on this treatise will be reserved for 
the critical estimate at the close of the volume. Its 
history, as serving to illustrate that of its author, is 
the sole subject of the present chapter. 

The views which this tract contains are so sober 



160 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



and chastened, that Anthony Wood — who, by the 
way, was about as competent a judge of such a ques- 
tion, as a mere antiquary would be of a question of 
science — proclaims the author "a great and strict 
Arminian," 

It could hardly be expected, therefore, that it 
would satisfy those who held extreme opinions on the 
subject of the Divine f redetermination^ and it was, 
accordingly, attacked by no less than three writers. 
The first was Theophilus Gale, who inserted some 
animadversions in the fourth and last part of his cele- 
brated work, " The Court of the Gentiles." To these 
animadversions Howe himself replied, in a postscript 
to his treatise, in which he exposes the false logic, and, 
what is worse, the glaring misstatements of his adver- 
sary. A second assailant was an ejected minister, 
named John Troughton. His initials only are -pre- 
fixed to his piece, which professes to be a reply not 
only to Howe's original treatise, but to the post- 
script also.* The third was Thomas Danson, also 
an ejected minister. He had been an intimate friend 
and fellow-collegiate of Howe's, for which reason he 
also affixed only his initials to the title-page. *j* 

To neither of these latter opponents did Howe 
publish any reply. As to Danson, his little book 
was not only most illogical, and full of misconcep- 

* It is entitled, "A Letter to a Friend, touching God's Prescience about 
Sinful Actions." 12mo. 1678. 

f It is entitled, ' ' De Causa Dei ; or a Vindication of the Common Doc- 
trine of Protestant Divines concerning Predetermination, viz. — ' The Interest 
of God, as the first Cause, in all the Actions, as such, of rational Creatures, ' 
from the invidious Consequences with which it is burthened by Mr. John 
Howe, in a late Letter and Postscript of God's Prescience, by T. D." 1678. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



161 



tion and misrepresentation, but displayed much 
arrogance and vanity; and these considerations 
alone would probably have deterred Howe from 
breaking silence. He would have been, in the 
last degree, unwilling to say anything in a case in 
which, if he had spoken at all, he must have spoken 
with an unwonted, and, to him, ungrateful severity. 

But though Howe himself was silent, a very suffi- 
cient champion voluntarily undertook his defence. 
This was no less than Andrew Marvell. 

If not distinguished by any extraordinary aptitude 
for metaphysical speculation, this great man at least 
possessed a clear, sound, healthy understanding ; 
and, in more than ordinary measure, that practical 
sagacity, which admirably qualified him for appre- 
ciating the character and detecting the sophistry of 
an over-subtle and trifling disputant. 

Much subtlety of reasoning was not what the case 
principally required. Marvell had what was much 
more effective in such a controversy ; the wit and 
sarcasm which had so often chastised ignorance, 
insolence, and vanity. 

It is highly honourable to Marvell that his extra- 
ordinary powers of satire, (powers which are so 
often employed to gratify malignity of feeling, or at 
the best an ostentatious vanity,) were in his case 
never employed except in the cause of truth or 
oppressed innocence. He reminds one of Spenser's 
Talus, the attendant of Arthegal, "that yron man" 
whose terrible severities were meted out with the 
strictest justice, and never descended except on the 
head of flagrant crime. 



162 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



' ' His name was Talus, made of yron mould, 
Immoveable, resistless, without end ; 
Who in his hand an yron flail did hold, 

With which he threshed out falsehood and did truth unfold." 

Spenser's Fairy Queen. Book V. canto i. 

But though Marvell never employed his powers of 
wit and sarcasm for any selfish purpose, and seemed 
quite willing, as far as his own fame went, to let 
them slumber for ever in the cloud, any impudent 
assault on innocence and virtue, any extraordinary 
display of tyranny, meanness, fraud, or falsehood, 
never failed to provoke the bolts of this great 
avenger. All his principal productions owed their 
origin solely to his chivalrous love of truth, justice, 
and honour. It was thus with his greatest work, 
" The Rehearsal Transprosed," against Parker; with 
his " Defence of the Naked Truth," against the 
flippant and conceited Francis Turner ; and with his 
present tract against Danson. 

This tract is entitled, " Remarks on a late dis- 
ingenuous Discourse, written by one T. D., under 
the pretence ' De Causa Dei/ and of answering 
Mr. John Howe's letter and postscript of ' Grod's 
Prescience,' etc., affirming as the Protestant doc- 
trine, c That Grod doth by efficacious influence uni- 
versally move and determine men to all their 
actions, even to those that are most wicked.' By a 
Protestant." * 

* Wood ("Athense Oxonienses," Edition Bliss, vol. iv.) says, in the 
account of Thomas Danson, "This book," speaking of the tract against 
Howe, "hath only the initial letters T. D. set to it, because it was written 
against his intimate friend and fellow- collegiate. Afterwards came out a 
book entitled, ' Remarks upon a late disingenuous Discourse, writ by one 
T. D., London, 1678,' said to be by 'A Protestant,' but whether by John 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



163 



From the more strictly argumentative parts of 
this tract, I shall refrain from making any extracts. 
They could not be fully understood without making 
large extracts from Danson's work ; and with any 
considerable portion of that publication I should be 
sorry to try the patience of my readers. 

The tract opens with the following noble reflec- 
tions on the unprofitable questions which often 
occupy speculative theology. To the sagacious and 
practical mind of Andrew Marvell 3 a man engaged 
all his life in public affairs, such questions were 
likely to appear in all their frivolity. He thus 
begins : — 

" Of all vocations to which men addict themselves, or are 
dedicated, I have always esteemed that of the ministry to be 
the most noble and happy employment ; as being more pecu- 
liarly directed to those two great ends, the advancement of 
God's glory, and the promoting of man's salvation. It hath 
seemed to me as if they who have chosen, and are set apart 

Howe, query." This sage query shows that Wood could never have seen 
Marvell's Tract, or he would never have been at a loss for an answer to his 
own interrogatory. It is avowedly written by a layman, with the express 
purpose of inducing Howe not to engage in the controversy ; it is full of his 
praises from beginning to end ; and has just all those qualities, both of 
thought and style, of which he was most destitute. 

But though it was certainly not written by Howe, this, it may be said, 
does not prove it to have been written by MarvelL I grant it : that is to be 
determined by other evidence. That the tract was, in Marvell's day. uni- 
versally and undoubtingly ascribed to him, appears from Calamy, who says 
without the slightest qualification, "Z\Ir. Danson also wrote against this 
tract, but I know not that Mr. Howe took any notice of him ; though the 
ingenious Andrew MarvelL Esq. , made a very witty and entertaining reply 
to him." The point, however, would be sufficiently clear, even if this testi- 
mony were wanting. The internal evidence alone would decide it. Xone 
who are in the slightest degree acquainted with Andrew Marvell's peculiar 
vein of humour, can mistake any half-dozen pages as the composition of any 
other author. 



164 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



for that work, did, by the continual opportunity of conversing 
with their Maker, enjoy a state like that of paradise ; and in 
this superior, that they are not also, as Adam, put in, 'to 
dress and keep a garden ; ' but are, or ought to be, exempt 
from the necessity of all worldly avocations. Yet, upon 
nearer consideration, they likewise appear to partake of the 
common infelicities of human condition. For, although 
they do not, as others, eat their bread in the sweat of their 
brows, (which some Divines account to be, though in the 
pulpit, undecent,) yet the study of their brain is more than 
equivalent ; and even the theological ground is so far under 
the curse, that no field runs out more in thorns and thistles, 
or requires more pains to disincumber it. Such I understand 
to be those peevish questions which have overgrown Chris- 
tianity ; wherewith men's minds are only rent and entangled, 
but from whence they can no more hope for any wholesome 
nourishment, than to ' gather grapes from thorns, or figs 
from thistles.' And (if I may so far pursue the allegory) 
this curse upon divinity, as that upon the earth, seems to 
have proceeded also from tasting that forbidden fruit, of the 
' tree of knowledge of good and evil.' For, in general, many 
Divines, out of a vain affectation of learning, have been 
tempted into inquiries too curious, after those things which 
the wisdom of God hath left impervious to human under- 
standing, further than they are revealed. And hence, instead 
of those allowed and obvious truths of faith, repentance, and 
the new creature, (yet these too have their proper weeds that 
pester them,) there have sprung up endless disputes con- 
cerning the unsearchable things of Grod, and which are 
agitated by men, for the most part, with such virulence and 
intricacy, as manifest the subtlety and malice of the serpent 
that hath seduced them. But, more particularly, that very 
knowledge of good and evil, the disquisition of the causes 
from whence, and in what manner they are derived, hath 
been so grateful to the controversial female appetite, that 
even the Divines have taken of it as ' a fruit to be desired to 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



165 



make them wise/ and given to their people, and they have 
both eaten, at the peril of (rod's displeasure and their own 
happiness. Whereas that second chapter of Genesis contains 
the plain history of good and evil, and (not to mention so 
many attestations to it of the Old and New Testament) what 
other comment needs there, for what belongs to good, than 
that it is from Grod only, ' that every good giving, and every 
perfect gift descendeth ?' And, as to evil, that also of St. 
James is sufficient conviction, ' Let no man say, when he is 
tempted, I was tempted of God ; God cannot be tempted with 
evil, neither tempteth he any man : but every man is tempted, 
when he is drawn aside by his own lusts and enticed/ Or 
that of the same apostle, ' From whence come wars and 
fightings among you ? ' (and even that Logomachia, I fear, 
with which this question is vexed,) ' Come they not hence ? 
even from your lusts that fight in your members. 5 And 
there is no examining Christian but must find both these 
truths evidently witnessed by his own conscience. 

" Nevertheless, the theologians of former and later times, 
not content with what is held forth in Scripture, have 
attempted to clamber and palm up higher, by the philosophy 
of that school where each of them hath first practised, and 
have drawn God's prescience and predetermination, upon this 
occasion, into debate ; arguing upon such points as no man, 
unless he were prior and precedent to the First Cause, can 
have the understanding to comprehend and judge of : and 
most of them do but say and unsay ; and, while in words 
they all deny God to be the author of sin, yet in effect and 
by the manner of their reasoning they affirm it ; I, therefore, 
being both apprehensive of the danger of such arguments, 
and more particularly conscious of mine own weakness, shall 
not presume to interpose my opinion in the differences about 
this matter, further than to say ; — that if men, by this 
fancied 'opening of their eyes,' have attained to see more 
clearlv. and acknowledge the wickedness of their own actions, 
it resembles the modesty of our first parents discerning their 



166 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



' nakedness : ' but, if men shall also assert a predeterminative 
concourse of God to our evil, it seems to have too much of 
original perverseness, and of that fallen, shortness of reason, 
whereby they would have found a nudity in the Creator, and 
did implicitly reject their fault upon him, for the £ serpent 
that he had made/ and the ' woman that he had given/ 

" But, if any man there be that can reconcile this contro- 
versy, and so many more that arise out of it ; (for all the most 
important doctrines of Christianity serve on the one side, and 
all the fiercest questions of religion on the other, depending 
for truth and falsehood upon the success of this engagement ;) 
if he can extinguish all those ill consequences, dull distinc- 
tions, and inconsistent notions, which have been levied in this 
quarrel, and reduce each party within the due limits of 
Scripture and saving knowledge ; such a person indeed 
deserves all commendation. And such an one I thought I 
had met with, nor yet see reason, notwithstanding all the 
late attempts upon him, to alter my opinion ; in a book 
entitled, ' The Reconcilableness of God's Prescience of the 
Sins of Men, with the Wisdom and Sincerity of his Counsels, 
Exhortations, and whatsoever other means He uses to prevent 
them. In a Letter to the Honourable Robert Boyle, Esquire 
and in a 1 Postscript to the late Letter of the Peconcilableness 
of God's Prescience, by John Howe, the Author of that 
letter.' " 

These observations are followed (for Marvell could 
not long maintain so grave a strain) by some good- 
humoured banter on Howe's apology for the haste 
with which his work had been written : after which, 
he suddenly drops his ironical vein, and breaks out 
into expressions of the most ardent admiration, both 
of Howe and his performance. 

" Yet there was one passage in the close of his letter, which 
seemed, as I thought, to lie open to censure ; where he asked 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



167 



pardon, as ' having huddled it up mostly in the intervals of a 
troublesome long journey/ It seemed a piece too well 
elaborate to have been perfected amidst the hurry of the 
road, the noise of inns, and the nausea of the packet-boat. 
And how could he hope, after saying this, in so captious an 
age as we live, to escape some reflection ? but that at least 
men would inquire whether he went by stage-coach, or on 
horseback ; both which are professed enemies to meditation 
and judgment ? (for it is probable he had not that ancient 
accommodation of horse-litters, wherein, without any impedi- 
ment to their thoughts, men travelled with all the privacy 
and equipage of a closet :) whether he had not lost his 
way, or fallen among thieves, and how he found himself after 
his journey ? with all the questions that men are subject to 
at their arrival home, and which, even when asked in civility, 
yet are troublesome. He might, had it not been for the 
jogging, have remembered how unfortunate most writers 
have been in such excuses, and what advantage ill-natured 
men have taken to misinterpret them. So he that apologized 
for using a foreign tongue, was told, that no man had pro- 
hibited him his native language in his own country ; others, 
alleging that they had at the same time a fit of the stone, 
gout, or other distemper, have been taxed, as lying under no 
obligation of publishing their infirmities, but who might, 

however, have cured themselves of that of writing 

"But, in earnest, this confession of Mr. Howe's is so far 
from any such arrogance, that it rather argues his modesty. 
For, if some can even in riding name all the contrary 
motions, till they have by memory played out a game at 
chess, (which was first invented as an emblem of predetermi- 
nation,) why should it be more difficult, or less allowable, to 
one of Mr. Howe's abilities, in the interruptions of travel, to 
give a mate also to that question ? The worst therefore that 
can be said of him, in allusion either to his letter or his 
journey, is — ' at poterat tutior esse domi.' Yet seeing this was 
the greatest fault that I remarked in reading him over, I 



168 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



would not pass it by without notice, lest I might have cause 
to suspect myself of a partiality, which I desire not that 
others should exercise in mine own particular. 

"But for the rest, whereas the things considerable in all 
discourses are the subject, the end, the reasoning, the method, 
and the style ; I must profess that, as far as I understand, I 
have met with few manual treatises, that do in all these 
respects equal it. For the subject, it appears in the title ; 
than which there is none of greater dignity to be handled, or 
of greater use, if rightly explained and comprehended. And 
no less is that of predetermination, which he only treats of 
collaterally ; and upon which therefore, in hope to find him 
less prepared, he hath been attacked, as in the flank, with 
most vigour. His end was most commendable, being to make 
the paths straight, and remove those stumbling-blocks which 
the asperity of others had laid in the way to heaven ; to 
rectify men's apprehensions concerning God, and leave 
them without pretence for negligence in their duties, or 
despair of performance ; much less for despite against 
the Creator. His arguing then is plain and solid, for 
evidence, rather than dispute ; nor does he either throw the 
dust of antique distinctions in the eyes of his readers, to blind 
them ; or raise the spectres of ancient authors, or conjure 
their venerable names, to fright men out of their senses and 
understanding ; but declares against all the prejudice or 
advantage by such proceeding, as unlawful charms, and pro- 
hibited weapons in the controversy. His method thereafter 
is direct and coherent, his style perspicuous and elegant : so 
that it is, in short, a manly discourse, resembling much, and 
expressing, the human perfection; in the harmony of lan- 
guage, the symmetry of parts, the strength of reason, the 
excellency of its end, which is so serious, that it is no defect 
in the similitude with man, that the letter contains nothing 
in it suitable to the property of laughter." 

He then proceeds to give the following ludicrous 
account of Danson's reply : — 



\ 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



169 



" All which put together, and although it does and must 
everywhere partake also of human imperfection, the treatise 
on ' Divine Prescience' might have been hoped capable of 
that civility which men, and especially learned men, but most 
of all Divines, do usually, or should allow, one another : that 
it should not be made ridiculous, being writ in so good 
earnest ; nor assaulted, being so inoffensive ; much less that 
it should be defaced, mutilated, stabbed in so many places, 
and the author through it, which is e^ven in writing a kind of 
felony. Yeb this hath been its misfortune in a rencounter 
with an immodest and hectoring discourse, pretending to the 
title, ' De Causa Dei ; or a Yindication of the Common 
Doctrine of Protestant Divines concerning Predetermination ; 
namely, the Interest of Grod, as the First Cause, in all the 
Actions, as such, of rational Creatures; from the invidious 
Consequences with which it is burthened by Mr. John Howe, 
in a late Letter and Postscript of Gfod's Prescience ; by T. D.' 
By which first letters, seeing it appears that he desires to 
pass incognito, I will so far observe good manners, as to 
interpret them only 'The Discourse,' heartily wishing that 
there were some way of finding it guilty, without reflecting 
upon the author ; which I shall accordingly endeavour, that I 
may both preserve his whatsoever former reputation, and 
leave him a door open to ingenuity for the future. But ' The 
Discourse' justifies itself, as if it had been typified by Paul's 
withstanding Peter to his face, when he came to Antioch, (so 
easy is it to patronise human passions, under the pretence of 
the cause of God and apostolical example,) whereas it rather 
resembles in the bravery, though not in the occasion, that 
exploit of Peter's, for which our Saviour, though done in his 
defence, rebuked him ; adding, ' They that take the sword 
shall perish by the sword : ' and the taking the pen hath 
seldom better success, if handled in the same manner. I, 
therefore, having had the leisure to read it over, and thereby 
the opportunity of a second caution, how the unruly quill is 
to be managed, have thought that I could not at present 

I 



170 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



render a better account of that time to myself or others, than 
by publishing these remarks ; that, as Mr. Howe's Letter 
may serve for a pattern of what is to be imitated, so ' The 
Discourse' may remain as a mark (the best use it can be put 
to) of what ought to be avoided, in all writing of contro- 
versies, especially by Divines, in those that concern religion. 
The nature of this matter would admit of no better method, 
than that the errors observable should be distinguished under 
several heads, to each of which the particular instances are 
referred." 

In accordance with the above pretended compas- 
sion towards the unknown author, he continues 
throughout to speak only of The Discourse, not of the 
author, simply designating his adversary- by the 
contemptuous neuter pronoun — " it" 

Such is the introduction to this tract. The author 
then proceeds to convict ' The Discourse' of several 
different kinds of misstatement, or fallacious reason- 
ing; — as "of its trifling and cavilling about words, 
when they affect not the cause ; of its ignorance and 
confusion about the matter that is in controversy ; 
of its falsifications and fictions of what its opponent 
hath not said ; of its injurious perverting of what he 
hath said ; of its odious insinuations ; of its violent 
boasting and self-applause ; of its gross absurdities, 
inconsistencies, self-contradictions, and unsafe ex- 
pressions ; and of the wrath and virulence of its 
spirit." 

A few brief extracts will amuse the reader. The 
following is a ludicrous description of the manner in 
which his opponent manages to shift the terms of 
the question, as suited his convenience. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



171 



" It is a worse thing to adulterate truth, than money. The 
terms of the question are the standard. But at this rate no 
man can know what is meum or tuum, which is his own 
hypothesis, and which his adversary's, while what he issued 
in current sense and weight is returned him clipped or 
counterfeit. But the observation of this manner of dealing 
hath put me upon another thought much differing, and which 
at first perhaps may seem something extravagant. 

" The camel is a beast admirably shaped for burthen, but 
so lumpish withal, that nothing can be more inept for feats 
of activity. Yet men have therefore invented how to make 
it dance, that, by how much unnatural, the spectacle might 
appear more absurd and ridiculous. Its keeper leads it upon 
a pavement so thoroughly warmed, that the creature, not 
able to escape nor abide it, shifts first one foot, and then 
another, to relieve itself, and would, if possible, tread the air 
on all four, the ground being too hot for it to stand upon. 
He in the meantime traverses and trips about it at a cooler 
distance, striking some volunteer notes on his Egyptian kit, 
like a French dancing-master. But, knowing that his 
scholar is both in too much pain, and too dull to learn 
his measures, he therefore upon frequent observation accords 
a tune to its figure and footing, which comes to the same 
account. So that, after daily repeating the lesson in private, 
they seem both at last to be agreed upon a new Arabic sara- 
band. Having thus far succeeded, he tries next whether 
what he taught by torture be not confirmed by custom, and if 
a cool hearth may not have the like effect. The camel no 
sooner hears his fiddle, but, as if its ears burned with the 
music, and its memory were in its feet, the animal bestirs 
forthwith its long legs, and, with many an antic motion and 
ill-favoured coupe, gratifies the master's patience and expec- 
tation. When he finds, upon constant experiment, that it 
never fails him, he thenceforward makes it public, and, 
having compounded with the master of the revels, shows it, 
with great satisfaction, to the vulgar, every Bartholomew fair 

i 2 



172 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



in Grand Cairo. I would not too much vex the similitude, 
but was run upon this by a resemblance it hath with some, 
who, not being framed at all for controversy, and finding the 
question too hot for them, do, by their flinching and shuffling 
from it, represent a disputation, till it is grown habitual to 
them, and they change ground as often, and have the same 
apprehension of the sound of an argument, as the camel of an 
instrument. 

"And yet The Discourse hath a fifth loose foot to clap on 
at need, as if four had not sufficed to prevaricate with." 

The two next extracts exhibit in a very laughable 
point of view, Danson's affectation of the logical 
formality and unintelligible jargon of the schools. 

" This [argument of Howe] was as plain and distinctly laid 
out as possible, but must forsooth be cast into a logical figure, 
where the officiousness argues the fraud; as ol those who 
make false plate, embezzling part of the metal, and yet 
make the owner pay moreover for the fashion." 

ft? 'Hp "H? 

" Yet how much powder is spent without doing the least 
execution ! First a categorical, then an hypothetical syllo- 
gism fired at him ; 'then forces him to distinguish, which is 
among disputants next to crying quarter, but will not give it 
him : runs him through with three replies to his distinction, 
and leaves him dead upon the place. While the proposition is 
all this while untouched, Mr. Howe is out of gunshot, and his 
adversary (if one that only skirmishes with himself, deserves 
to be called so) is afraid to take aim, and starts merely at the 
report of his own musket. Thus hath The Discourse five 
several times altered the property of the question ; which is 
my fourth instance of its ignorance and confusion about the 
matter in controversy ; unless it ought to be interpreted as 
an argument rather of a strong brain, after so many times and 

suddenly turning round, not to have fallen down senseless." 

# * * * * * * 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



173 



" I shall now come to the last instance of this article. Not 
that I want abundance of more, or might not produce the 
whole book in evidence, but because it were time that I came 
to some period. And lest The Discourse should think I 
avoided its main strength, I shall there examine it, where it 
pretends to no less than demonstration. For never was there 
thing so dreadfully accoutred and armed cap-a-pie in logic, 
categorical and hypothetical syllogisms, majors, minors, en- 
thymems, antecedents, consequents, distinctions, definitions, 
and now at last demonstration, to pin the basket : terms that 
good Mr. Howe as a mere novice is presumed to be acquainted 
with." 

******* 

He apologizes for not pursuing Danson's mis- 
representations and fallacies, so far as lie might have 
done, in the following striking image : — 

" But I spare my hand, The Discourse all along boiling 
over, foaming, frothing, and casting forth the like expres- 
sions : which I refrain to enumerate, that I may not incur 
the fate of him that stirs the Indian's poison-pot, who when 
he falls down dead with the steam and stench, they then 
throw the doors open and dip their arrows." 

3fc ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ ^ 

The conclusion is truly eloquent, and is all I can 
afford space to give. In the ludicrous remarks he 
makes on Howe's three opponents, the readers of 
Marvell cannot fail to recognise that felicitous readi- 
ness of repartee, and that sustained and apparently 
exhaustless humour, by which his wit is so especially 
characterized. 

" But, however, I hope that I may have done a good work, 
if upon sight of these remarks, Mr. Howe, though fitted 
doubtless for a much better and fuller reply, would deliberate 



174 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



before lie makes this adversary so considerable as to blot 
paper on its occasion. Let it, in the meantime, venditate all 
its street adages, its odd ends of Latin, its broken shreds of 
poets, and its musty lumber of schoolmen. Let it enjoy the 
ingenuity of having unprovoked fallen upon a person, ' whose 
parts it acknowledged/ for whom it ' had such an affection/ 
with whom it i had so many years' academical society/ and so 
' long friendship : ' but whom it now ■ must number among 
(rod's adversaries.' Let it value itself upon these things : 
for all these considerations do heighten the price of an assas- 
sinate. But may Mr. Howe still continue his sobriety, sim- 
plicity, arid equality of temper ; glorifying Gfod rather in the 
exercise of practical Christian virtues, than affecting the 
honour of a speculative question. But if he had a mind to 
be vindictive, there is no way to despite the adversary more 
sensibly, than, as clamorous women, by giving them no 
answer. Till men grow into a better humour, and learn to 
treat of divinity more civilly, they are unfit for conversation. 

" Another, I see, who is now his third aggressor, hath 
already assaulted him, though less barbarously, in ' A Letter 
to a Friend/ etc. Yet even he introduces his book with Job : 
' Wilt thou speak wickedly for Grod, and talk deceitfully for 
him ? ' What shall Mr. Howe do in this case ? Is the 
Bible therefore to be turned into a libel ? and shall he search 
the Scriptures to find out a text equally cutting ? He need 
not go far, were he of that mind, to retaliate. How easy were 
the parallel betwixt Job's three friends (to whom those words 
were spoken) and three such comfortable gentlemen ! And 
why may not Mr. Howe nick them as well out of Job ? 
'But I have understanding as well as you; I am not inferior 
to you ; yea, who knoweth not such things as these ? I am 
as one mocked of his neighbour, who calleth upon God, and he 
answereth him. The just upright man is laughed to scorn.' 
Or, if he would be yet severer, the same book will hit 
them home. ' But ye are forgers of lies ; ye are all physi- 
cians of no value. Oh that you would altogether hold your 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



175 



peace, and it should be your wisdom/ And then at last, to 
determine the whole dispute, he might conclude with Job : 
' The Lord said to Eliphaz the Temanite, My wrath is kindled 
against thee, and against thy two friends ; for ye have not 
spoken of me the thing that is right, as my servant Job hath.' 
After all which, what more seasonable, in order to reconcilia- 
tion, than the verse following ? ' Go to my servant Job, and 
offer up for yourselves a burnt-offering, and my servant Job 
shall pray for you (for him will I accept), lest I deal with you 
after your folly, in that you have not spoken of me the thing 
that is right, as my servant Job hath.' But the word of God 
is not so to be turned into the reproach of man, though the 
allusion may seem never so happy ; nor have I instanced 
thus far, otherwise than to show the frivolousness, though too 
usual, of that practice. 

" But therefore I would advise Mr. Howe, though not to 
that excusable sullenness and silence, with which some have 
chastised the world for having used them unworthily ; nor 
to that tacit contempt of his adversaries, in which he were 
hitherto justified ; yet, that, having made a laudable attempt, 
of which several good men are it seems not capable, he 
would, for peace' sake, either wholly surcease this contest, or 
forbear at least till they have all done. For it is more easy 
to deal with them all than single ; and, were they once 
embodied, come to a consistence among themselves, or had 
agreed who should speak for them, they had right to his 
answer. But until then, Mr. Howe is no more obliged in 
whatsoever is called honour, reason, or conscience, than if 
every hair of T. D s - that stands on end, should demand parti- 
cular satisfaction. It is the same for such a divine as he, to 
turn common disputant, as for an architect to saw timber, or 
cleave logs ; which, though he may sometimes do it for 
health or exercise, yet to be constant at it, were to debase 
and neglect his vocation. Mr. Howe hath work enough cut 
out of a nobler nature, in his ' Living Temple,' in which, like 
that of Solomon, there is ' neither hammer, nor axe, nor any 



176 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



tool of iron to be heard/ nothing that can offend, all to 
edify. And this I heartily wish that he may accomplish : 
but therefore, as he hath not hitherto sought, so that he 
would avoid all contention ; lest, as David, for having been a 
man of blood, was forbid to build the temple, so he, as being 
a man of controversy. 

" As for myself, I expect in this litigious age, that some or 
other will sue me for having trespassed thus far on theological 
ground : but I have this for my plea, that I stepped over on 
no other reason than (which any man legally may do) to 
hinder one divine from offering violence to another. And, if 
I should be molested on that account, I doubt not but some 
of the Protestant clergy will be ready therefore to give me 
the like assistance." 



CHAPTER VII. 



FROM 1677 TO 1680. 

severities exercised upon the nonconformists during this period — 
howe's earnest desire for an adjustment of the differences be- 
tween THE CHURCH AND THE DISSENTERS — THE POPISH PLOT — CURIOUS 
INTERVIEW WITH A CERTAIN NOBLEMAN — HIS REPLY TO STILLINGFLEET — 
EXTRACTS — HIS EXPOSTULATION WITH TILLOTSON ON HIS SERMON BEFORE 
THE KING — ANOTHER ATTEMPT AT COMPREHENSION — BILL OF EXCLUSION — 
PROCEEDINGS OF THE PARLIAMENT OF 1680. 

During this period, and, indeed, till the close of 
Charles's infamous reign, the nonconformists were 
generally persecuted with great rigour ; the king 
himself, as if in mockery of the principles of his late 
hollow indulgence, permitting the utmost severities. 
The numerous laws which had been enacted against 
them were all strictly enforced ; their families and 
assemblies were infested by the vilest informers — 
wretches who did not scruple to assume even the 
mask of religion, to enable them more effectually to 
play the traitor ; while the prisons in many cases 
were literally crowded with victims. 

It is true that to a few, circumstances, local or 
temporary, often afforded partial protection. Some 
of the nonconformists were less obnoxious than 

i'3 



178 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



others, some more prudent ; in many cases the 
magistrates connived at their proceedings, or, when 
compelled to take notice of them, mitigated the 
penalties to which the accused were exposed ; while 
a few, at their own proper risk, nobly refused to 
exercise their odious office, or to receive the deposi- 
tions of the infamous creatures who lived upon the 
spoil of innocence and piety. 

There were, also, brief intervals in which the 
whole body of the nonconformists were favoured 
with some mitigation of their sufferings — moments 
w^hen the blast of persecution, having blown its fill, 
seemed for a while to have spent itself. . These 
pauses, however, were short and of rare occurrence ; 
the general condition of the nonconformists during 
the remainder of this reign, and the commencement 
of the next, was most deplorable. 

For the intervals of comparative quiet to which I 
have just adverted, they were, generally, indebted to 
the prevalence of those alarms of Popery, which were 
not infrequent in the reign of the Second Charles, 
and which reached their height at the time of the 
celebrated " Popish Plot," in 1678-9. During such 
periods of panic, the schismatics were in some mea- 
sure forgotten, and even regarded with some favour, 
as valuable allies in case of need ; and though some 
of the high church bigots would have contemplated 
even the restoration of Popery with less displeasure 
than a relaxation of the terms of conformity, a 
majority of the clergy held very different senti- 
ments. On more than one occasion of this kind, 
some overtures had already been made towards a 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



179 



" comprehension," especially in the memorable 
attempt of 1674-5, — in which the leading men on 
the side of the Church were Bishops Morley and 
Ward, and Dean Tillotson ; those on that of the 
Nonconformists, Baxter, Pool, and Bates. This 
occurred just before Howe returned to England. 
Like every other scheme of the kind, it came to 
nothing. 

Howe had never abandoned his hopes of an 
adjustment between the Church and the Noncon- 
formists ; and now, in the same spirit of charity 
which had induced him twenty years before to toil 
with Baxter in the fruitless schemes of " comprehen- 
sion," he availed himself of every favourable oppor- 
tunity of urging on persons of influence or authority 
in the Church, the desirableness of some attempt at 
accommodation. At the time of the Popish Plot 
especially, as well as during a considerable part of 
the following year, when the nation was frantic with 
the most absurd and fantastic terrors of Popery, he 
never ceased to maintain — what was, indeed, obvious 
to every unprejudiced understanding — that the best 
method of fortifying Protestantism against the de- 
signs of Rome, was to close those wide breaches 
through which alone the enemy could hope to assail 
it with success. Nor could any time for any such 
attempt be more auspicious than during the agita- 
tion produced by the Popish Plot, and within a year 
or two after. 

About this period, an amusing incident occurred, 
which Calamy has related at the close of his volume, 
but which, for the sake of preserving the continuity 



180 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



of the narrative, I prefer relating here. He tells us, 
that " during Charles's reign, Howe had it signified 
to him, by several, that a certain nobleman, who 
was at that time great at court, was desirous to see 
him." Calamy does not tell us who this nobleman 
was ; but there can be little doubt, after carefully 
weighing the whole circumstances, that it was the 
notorious Duke of Buckingham. This nobleman, 
it is well known, affected, at this period, extra- 
ordinary liberality, and employed no small efforts to 
conciliate the sectaries — for what purposes, I do not 
now inquire.* Howe took an opportunity of wait- 
ing on him. After some conversation, the soi-disant 
patron hinted, that "the nonconformists were too 
numerous and powerful to be any longer neg- 
lected ; that they deserved regard ; and that, if they 
had a friend near the throne, and who possessed 
influence with the court generally, to give them 
advice in critical emergencies, and to convey their 
requests to the royal ear, they would find it much to 
their advantage." He was further pleased to express 
himself in such a manner as necessarily led his 
visitor to conclude, that he himself would have no 
objection to become their advocate and representa- 
tive at court. Howe, penetrating at once the sordid 
and ambitious motives which prompted this modest 
proposal, and fully impressed with the preposterous 
unfitness of such a person for such an office, replied, 
with an air of great simplicity, " that the noncon- 
formists being an avowedly religious people, it highly 

* His conduct at this period forms an important feature in the plot of 
Scott's novel of "Peveril of the Peak." 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



concerned them, should they fix on any one for the 
purpose mentioned, to choose some one who would 
not be ashamed of them, and of whom they might 
have no reason to be ashamed ; and that to find a 
person in whom there was a concurrence of those 
two qualifications, was exceedingly difficult." I 
need not say that this reply put an end to all nego- 
tiations in this quarter. 

Howe seldom entered the arena of controversy. 
In the year 1680, a circumstance occurred which, in 
his opinion, justified him in doing so. Amongst 
others, whom the spirit of party hurried into excesses 
utterly unworthy of them, was the celebrated Dean 
Stillingfleet,* afterwards Bishop of Worcester ; a man 
deservedly respected for his learning and talents, and 
hitherto distinguished by a moderate and conciliatory 
temper. 

On the 2nd of May, 1680, he preached a sermon 
before the Lord Mayor and Aldermen of the city, 
and the Judges and Serjeants, f as uncharitable in 
its spirit as it was absurd in reasoning. His text 



* In 1659 lie published his book called "Irenicum," the grand object of 
which was to prove that no form of church government could be proved to 
be jure divino from any passages of the New Testament. This made the 
vehemence and violence of the " Mischief of Separation" the more glaring, 
and gave Howe and others, in their replies, an opportunity of using the 
argumentum ad hominem with considerable effect. Supposing his adversaries 
in the wrong, it was urged that more forbearance might have been expected 
from one who had been twenty years in amending his theory and correcting 
the errors of his youth. 

+ Calamy has virtually represented Stillingfleet as having preached this 
sermon after the "Exclusion Bill" (designed to shut out James II., then 
Duke of York, from the throne, on the ground of his being a papist) had 
been rejected by the House of Lords ; and has even left the reader to infer, 
by the manner in which he introduces the mention of it, that it was to be 




182 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



was, " Nevertheless, whereto we have already at- 
tained, let us walk by the same rule ; let us mind 
the same thing."* The sermon was afterwards 
printed under the title of " The Mischief of Separa- 
tion." In this discourse, he not only inveighs most 
bitterly against the nonconformists, on whom he 
charges the sole guilt of the great schism which had 
rent the Established Church in twain, but maintains 
the dangerous position, " that though the really con- 
scientious nonconformist is justified in not worship- 
ping after the prescribed forms of the Church of 
England, or rather would be criminal if he did so, 
yet he is not less criminal in setting up a separate 
assembly." Such is the pleasant dilemma to which, 
according to this writer, the sensitive consciences of 
the nonconformists had reduced them. An inevit- 
able necessity of crime was the direct consequence of 
their scrupulous anxiety to avoid it. It was at their 
peril, if they worshipped with the Church of England; 
it was at their peril, if they worshipped in the con- 
venticle ; and it was certainly not less at their peril, 
if they abstained from worship altogether ! 

While other writers opposed the argumentation of 
the discourse in general, t Howe set himself more 
immediately to the refutation of this simple position. 
He was in the country when the discourse was printed, 
but received it together with an enclosed letter from 
a " person of quality," who had read the Dean's 

attributed to the rejection of that bill. This seems to be a mistake ; since 
the Exclusion Bill was not lost till November, 1680, whereas the sermon of 
Stillingfleet was preached on the second of May. 

* Phil. iii. 16. t As Owen, Baxter, Alsop, and others. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



183 



sermon with equal surprise and indignation. As 
Howe thought he perceived in his correspondent's 
letter somewhat of the same angry spirit which was 
but too evident in the discourse itself he, in his 
reply,* expresses his intention, first, " of defending 
the cause of the nonconformists against the Dean, 
and then of adding something in defence of the 
Dean against his correspondent." 

The first part, though written in haste, is full of 
close and powerful reasoning, and thoroughly de- 
molishes the untenable position of his opponent. 
The latter part, in which he proceeds to allay the 
anger of his correspondent, and to apologize for the 
conduct of the Dean, is eminently beautiful, strikingly 
illustrative of the writer's character, and furnishes a 
perfect model of fair and gentlemanly controversy. 
While I earnestly entreat the reader carefully to 
peruse the whole composition, I cannot refrain from 
inserting here one or two short extracts from it ; 
not without a faint hope, that some of the writers 
on the same controversy in the present day, who 
seem to be emulating, in virulence and uncharitable- 
ness, the spirit of their forefathers, may be impressed 
with the contrast between Howe's temper and their 
own. Such a temper is rare at any period ; but in 
that age of fierce and savage controversy, of the 
tomahawk and scalping-knife, it was indeed a phe- 
nomenon. The contrast, however, between such a 
temper and that which animated controvertists in 

* The reply was entitled, ' ' A Letter out of the Country to a Person of 
quality in the City, who took offence at the late Sermon of Dr. Stillingfleet, 
Bean of St. Paul's, before the Lord Mayor." 



184 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



general, more strongly displays the elevation and 
spirituality of mind which secured Howe against the 
infectious example of bigotry, and enabled him, 
when writing on topics so exciting and irritating, 
to preserve the courtesy of a gentleman and the 
charity of a Christian. 

" I must here indeed tell you, that I cannot blame you for 
being in some measure offended, as I can excuse the Doctor 
but in part. I do dislike, as well as you, two things espe- 
cially in his way of managing this business ; his too great 
acrimony, and too little seriousness." . . . 

After thus admitting, and rebuking, but with most 
winning gentleness, the faults of the preacher, and 
especially the sarcastic and derisive tone in wliich 
he had indulged, Howe proceeds : — 

" One would rather have thought he should have bedewed 
that discourse with tears, which had in itself, most manifestly, 
so awful and tremendous a design, as not only the devoting 
of so great numbers, that miglit possibly not be convinced 
and persuaded by him, to a temporal ruin ; but the depriving 
them of the ordinary means of their salvation : and that, if 
he thought it necessary for the preserving of order in the 
church, they should be so dealt with, he should have spoken 
of their case with the greatest compassion and tenderness, 
not with derision and contempt. 

" Yet I would have you use lenitives with yourself, and 
calm your own spirit ; and I wish you were capable of con- 
tributing anything to the moderating and pacifying his too : 
that though he have been angry unprovoked, and with a sort 
of men that have ever respected and honoured him, as if he 
had been of themselves ; his anger, that hath been without 
cause, (as you know perhaps who in a like expression blame 
the exorbitancy of another passion,) may not also be without 
end. At least, I pray you, take heed you do not deserve the 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



185 



like sharp repartee, wliicli tlie cynic met with from, that 
noble philosopher, that he taxed his pride with greater pride ; 
that you exceed not the heats whereof you complain. . . 
If he will still retain his fervour, let him he angry alone ; and 
his displeasure have its continuance with as little influence or 
concomitancy of yours, (and I could wish of any other man's,) 
as, for aught I know, it had its beginning. And that since 
he thinks of being a sacrifice, he may only burn gently in his 
own flame, which he may moderate as he pleases, and I hope 
will seasonably extinguish, before he hath suffered much 
harm by it. 

"For the qualifying of your own too great resentment and 
offence ; 2" would have you consider how great reason you have to 
believe, that this blow came only from the (somewhat misgoverned) 
hand of a pious and good man. Be it far from you to imagine 
otherwise. If you think he was to blame for intimating sus- 
picions of their sincerity whom he opposes, make not yourself 
equally blameable, by admitting hereupon any concerning 
his : which would argue a mean, narrow spirit, and a most 
unwarrantable fondness of a party, as if all true religion 
and godliness were bound up in it. 

"And if it look unlovely in your eyes to see one of so 
much avowed latitude and enlargedness of mind, and capable 
on that account of being the more universally serviceable to 
the Christian church, forsaking that comprehensive interest, 
so far as to be engulfed into a party upon a private and 
distinct basis, consider what aspect the same thing would 
have in yourself ; and never make his difference with you in 
this matter, a reason to yourself of a hard judgment con- 
cerning him ; who can, you must consider, differ no more 
from us, than we do from him. 

" Believe him, in the substance of what he said, to speak 
according to his present judgment. Think how gradually and 
insensibly men's judgments alter, and are formed by their 
converse ; that his circumstances have made it necessary to 
him to converse most, for a long time, with those .who are 



186 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



fully of that mind which he here discovers ; that his own real 
worth must have drawn into his acquaintance the best and 
most valuable of them, and such for whom he might not only 
have a kindness, but a reverence ; and who therefore must 
have the more power and influence upon him, to conform his 
sentiments to their own. 

" We ourselves do not know, had we been by our circumstances 
led to associate and converse mostly with men of another judgment, 
what our own would have been. And they that are wont to 
discover most confidence of themselves, do usually but dis- 
cover most ignorance of the nature of man ; and how little 
they consider the power of external objects and inducements 
to draw men's minds this way or that. Nor, indeed, as to 
matters of this nature, can any man be confident that the 
grace of God shall certainly incline him to be of this or 
another opinion or practice in these matters ; because we 
find those that we have no reason to believe have greater 
assistances of Divine grace are divided about them, and go 
not all one way. 

"We may indeed be confident that had the same consi- 
derations occurred to us which have, we should have been of 
the same mind and judgment that we are. But it is very 
supposable that some accidental occasions might possibly 
have happened, that might hinder our actual taking up such 
considerations, though the things to be considered were not 
unknown to us : and not that only, but that might prevent 
our knowing even matters of fact, that have signified not 
a little to the determining our judgments that way which 
they now incline to. 

" So that for the substance of what he hath said against 
such meetings, we have reason to impute it to his judg- 
ment ; and his judgment to such circumstances, very much 
as I have mentioned, that have led him the way he hath 
taken ; and not given him opportunity to know what might 
have begot a better opinion in him of the way which he 
opposes. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



187 



"But for the manner of treating this subject, that I impute 
to the prevalency of some present temptation ; and hope he 
did not express in that sermon his habitual temper : and am 
highly confident, (notwithstanding what he hath said in it,) if it 
were in his power, we might even safely trust him to prescribe us 
terms, and should receive no hard ones from h im . 

"Somewhat it is likely he was expected (and might be 
urged) to say to this business ; and his own thoughts being 
set a work, fermented into an intemperate heat, which, it is 
to be hoped, will in time evaporate." 

After stating his conviction that the spirit of 
unity and peace would result from earnest and 
universal prayer for it, he thus concludes : — 

"Do you your own part herein ; you will find your own 
present advantage by it ; it will fill you with good thoughts, 
hopes, and expectations : the kindly benign influences 
whereof will pleasantly qualify and temper your spirit, and 
make you know how much more grateful an inhabitant that 
charity is, 'which thinketh no evil, beareth all things, 
belie veth all things, hopeth all things, endureth all things/ 
than frowardness, discontent, vexation, and anger, at any one 
that thinks and speaks otherwise than you did expect or 
wish." 

It is no wonder that Stillingfleet, charmed with 
the spirit of his opponent — a spirit very different, it 
must be admitted, from that of others who had re- 
plied to him — confessed, " that Howe had discoursed 
gravely and piously, more like a gentleman than a 
divine, without any mixture of rancour or any sharp 
reflections, and sometimes with a great degree of 
kindness towards him, for which and his pikers for 
hhn, he heartily thanked him.' 7 

Howe's gentle spirit and conciliatory temper were 



188 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



not less strikingly displayed in another occurrence 
which took place about the same time. 

In the same year* in which Stillingfleet preached 
his strange sermon before the Lord Mayor, " On the 
Mischief of Separation," Tillotson (one of the most 
amiable of men, and in his spirit and temper worthy 
of being compared with Howe himself) preached a 
discourse, equally paradoxical, before the King. His 
text was, " And the people answered and said, God 
forbid that we should forsake the Lord to serve other 
gods." By what imaginable subtlety of reasoning 
he could extract the sentiment from such a pas- 
sage, I know not ; but in his sermon he maintained, 
" That no man is obliged to preach against the re- 
ligion of his country, though a false one, unless he 
has the power of working miracles." The irreligious 
monarch, as was often the case, slept during the 
greater part of the sermon. As soon as the service 
was over, a nobleman stepped up and said, " It is a 
pity your Majesty slept, for we have had the rarest 
piece of Hobbism that ever you heard in your life." 
"Odsfish!" exclaimed the King, with one of his 
usual oaths, "he shall print it then," and enjoined 
the Lord Chamberlain to convey his commands to 
the Dean. When printed, the Dean, as was usual 
with him, sent a copy to Howe, who, on perusing it, 
was filled with alarm at the dangerous position which 
the preacher had thought proper to maintain. 

He instantly sent the Dean a long letter of expos- 
tulation, which, unhappily, has not been preserved. 
Calamy, however, whose information seems worthy 

* 1680. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



189 



of implicit confidence,* has mentioned the prin- 
cipal topics on which it insisted. Howe expressed 
his conviction that the sermon was u directly 
opposed to all the principles on which alone the 
Reformation could be justified ;" reminded its 
author u that Calvin and Luther were, happily for 
mankind, of a very different mind; that the Christian 
religion being already confirmed by miracles, was 
not to be repealed every time a wicked governor 
chose to establish a false religion;" and " that, 
consequently, its ministers were bound publicly to 
advocate it, even though they could not work 
miracles." In conclusion, he expressed deep regret, 
that in a ssrmon professedly against Popery, the 
Dean should thus have pleaded " the Popish cause 
against the Fathers of the Reformation." This letter 
Howe carried himself, and delivered into Tillotson's 
own hands. After hastily glancing at its contents, 
the Dean told Howe that he was willing freely 
to discuss the matter with him ; and proposed that, 
to insure uninterrupted privacy, they should ride 
together a little way into the country. Howe ac- 
cepted the invitation, and they agreed to dine that 
day with the Lady Falconbridge at Sutton Court. 
As they rode together in the Dean's chariot, Howe 
read his letter aloud, more fully explaining and 
enforcing it as he went on. Tillotson, at length 
convinced that the doctrine he had advocated was 

* At the close of his account of this affair, Calamy says, " I am the 
better satisfied that there is no mistake as to the substance of this passage, 
because he from whom I had it, did not trust to his bare memory, but com- 
mitted it to writing, presently after he received the account from Mr. Howe 
himself.'' 



190 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



utterly untenable, even wept over his error, and 
declared that " this was the unhappiest thing which 
had for a long time happened to him." In mitigation 
of his fault, however, he pleaded u that he had been 
unexpectedly summoned by the Lord Chamberlain to 
preach on that day,— the individual whose turn it was 
having been suddenly taken ill; that, having little 
time for preparation, he had fastened on the topic 
which was at that period uppermost in the public 
mind — the fear of Popery ; and lastly, that imme- 
diately after he had delivered the sermon, he received 
the King's command to print it, which rendered all 
revision impossible." 

Tillotson's conduct on this occasion places his 
amiable character in the fairest light. One can 
hardly regret that he committed a fault for which 
he so nobly atoned, and which has furnished us with 
so impressive an example of ingenuousness, candour, 
and humility. 

At the same time, there must have been about 
Howe's manner of expostulation something peculiarly 
insinuating, since, in general, a more hopeless task 
can hardly be imagined than that of inducing a man 
to recant an error, to which he has given his public 
sanction. Pride and shame alike impel him to an 
obstinate defence of it. 

Doubtless, on the present occasion the temper 
of both parties equally conspired to produce the 
happy result : even the expostulations of Howe 
might have failed, unless it had been a Tillotson to 
whom they were addressed; and even Tillotson 
might not have relented, had the reproof been 



LITE OF HOWE. 



191 



administered by a spirit less gentle than that of 
Howe. 

In this same year, the attempts at comprehension 
were again renewed, That the object was seriously 
contemplated by some of the Bishops, is evident 
from the following fact, related by Calamy. It 
appears that, at the close of 1680, Howe received an 
invitation from Bishop Lloyd* to dine with him. As 
he had no acquaintance with that prelate, he sus- 
pected that it must be some very important reason 
which had led to such an unusual courtesy. Being 
eno-aa'ed to dine elsewhere on that clav, Howe sent 
word that he would wait on his Lordship in the 
evening. On this, the Bishop sent again, to say, 
"that since Mr. Howe could not dine with him, 
he would not trouble him to come so far as his 
house, but woidd meet him at Dr. Tillotson's," then 
Dean of Canterbury. "Vv lien they met, the Bishop 
told him, that he had sought this interview to 
ask him, "'what would satisfy the nonconformists, 
if an attempt should be made to adjust the differ- 
ences between them and the Church." Howe, 
with his usual caution, replied, that " as all had 
not the same latitude, he could only answer for 
himself."' He was then requested to state, "what 
concessions, in his opinion, would satisfy the scruples 
of the greater part : for," added the Bishop, " I would 
have the terms so large as to comprehend the most 

* There were two Bishops of this name living at this period — one of 
Xorwich, the other of St. Asaph, afterwards of Worcester. Calamy does 
not tell ns which of these two prelates it was who honoured Howe with this 
invitation. There can be little doubt, however, that it was the latter. 



192 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



of them." On this, Howe declared, that he thought 
"a very considerable obstacle would be removed, if 
the law were so framed as to enable ministers to 
attempt parochial reformation." " For that reason/' 
said the Bishop, "I am for abolishing the lay 
chancellors, as being the great hindrance to such 
reformation." They then agreed to meet again the 
following evening at Dr. Stillingneet's, Dean of St. 
Paul's. Howe asked if he should bring Baxter with 
him ? But this the Bishop (who was doubtless well 
aware of that unhappy propensity for " distin- 
guishing," by which, with the best intentions in the 
world, Baxter often managed to multiply and aggra- 
vate the points of dispute) positively forbade. Howe 
then proposed Dr. Bates ; and was answered, " that 
no man could be more proper." At seven, there- 
fore, on the following evening, Bates and Howe 
repaired to Dr. Stillingneet's, " who," says Calamy, 
"had provided a handsome treat" for his visitors. Of 
this "handsome treat" the Bishop was either disin- 
clined or unable to partake; for ten o'clock came, 
and they neither saw nor heard of him. The next 
morning, the mystery was solved; — on that very 
evening the Bill of Exclusion* was thrown out of the 

* This was the celebrated Bill for excluding James II. , then Duke of York, 
from the succession, on the ground of his being a Papist. A bill for this 
purpose had been passed more than once in the House of Commons, but had 
been defeated by the dissolution or prorogation of Parliament. In order to 
frustrate that measure, the King, between 1679 and 1681, dissolved not less 
than three parliaments, in the hope of more favourable elections. Those 
hopes, however, were vain ; the country each time returning a parliament 
bent on this project. The parliament of 1680, especially, was determined 
not only to exclude the Duke of York from the throne, but, as seen above, 
to effect, if possible, the union of "his Majesty's Protestant subjects." 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



193 



House of Lords, by a majority of thirty votes — 
fourteen of which came from the bench of Bishops. 
After this, the scheme of comprehension, so far as the 
Church was concerned, was heard of no more. 

The parliament which met in 1680, was, like that 
which had been dissolved the preceding year, of 
a very liberal character. During the session, and 
soon after the Bill of Exclusion had been rejected by 
the Upper House, they brought in a measure for 
" uniting his Majesty's Protestant subjects." They 
were especially anxious to effect the repeal of cer- 
tain persecuting laws of Elizabeth, which had been 
directed against Popish recusants, and which were 
now cruelly put in force against the nonconformists. 
A bill, with this object, after having passed both 
houses, was quietly ivithdrawn by the clerk of the 
crown, at the command of the King; who took 
this characteristic method of quashing a measure 
he dared not openly reject. The Commons, 
indignant at this insult, resorted to the unprece- 
dented step of passing a vote, c c That the acts of 
parliament made in the reigns of Queen Elizabeth 
and King James against Popish recusants, ought not 
to be enforced against Protestant Dissenters and, 
il That the prosecution of Protestant Dissenters, upon 
the penal laws, is at this time grievous to the sub- 
ject, a weakening of the Protestant interest, an 
encouragement to Popery, and dangerous to the 
peace of the kingdom." 

The last of the above three parliaments met at Oxford, and after sitting only 
a week, was dissolved. The King after this dispensed with all such refrac- 
tory assemblies to the end of his reign. 

K 



CHAPTER VIII. 



FROM 1681 TO 1684. 

CONDITION OF THE NONCONFORMISTS DURING THIS PERIOD — HOWE'S MEETING- 
HOUSE DISTURBED — ACCOUNT OF HIS PUBLICATIONS IN 1681, .1682, AND 
1683 — PREACHES HIS SERMON ON THE UNION OF PROTESTANTS — ACCOUNT OF 
IT— EXTRACTS — LETTER OF CONSOLATION TO LADY RUSSELL — REFLECTIONS 
— EXPOSTULATORY LETTER TO BISHOP BARLOW. 

In the year 1681, the condition of the noncon- 
formists became yet more deplorable. The various 
circumstances which had sometimes mitigated the 
rigour of former persecutions, no longer afforded 
them protection ; and for the next two or three years, 
they were exposed to the full fury of the tempest. 

Not only were the harsh laws which had been 
expressly enacted against them, enforced with the 
utmost rigour, but laws which had never been 
intended to apply to them — laws which were made 
against the Papists in the reign of Elizabeth — had 
been recently revived, and were now vigorously 
acted on, in defiance of the late vote of the House of 
Commons. Some of the dignitaries of the Church 
actively seconded the designs of the government, 
incited the civil magistrate to greater severity, and 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



195 



put into motion all the crushing machinery of the 
ecclesiastical courts. 

The inoffensive habits and great prudence of 
Howe seem in some measure to have secured him 
against the severities to which so many of his 
brethren were exposed ; yet even he (as appears by 
an expression in the " Pastoral Letter," which will 
be found in a subsequent page) rarely ventured into 
the streets, during this and the two following years. 
It also appears that, on one occasion, about this time, 
his meeting was disturbed by the emissaries of per- 
secution, while he was preaching, and seven of his 
hearers committed to Newgate ; amongst whom 
was the Rev. Richard Dowley, one of the ejected 
ministers, in the account of whose life this circum- 
stance is preserved.* 

During this gloomy year, Howe made diligent 
use of the solitary hours to which persecution 
doomed him, in preparing for the press several of 
his smaller publications. Amongst these were the 
discourses entitled, " Thoughtfulness for the Mor- 
row," (to which was attached an appendix, " Con- 
cerning the immoderate Desire of Foreknowing 
Things to Come,") and " On Charity in reference 
to other Men's Sins." The former was dedicated 
to the Lady Anne Wharton, - ]* of Upper Winchingdon, 

* Palmer's Noncon. Memorial, vol. ii. p. 395. 

f This was the wife of Philip, Lord Wharton, with whom Howe, 
three years after, travelled on the Continent. She appears, from Howe's 
language, to have been a very excellent woman. He tells her, "Your 
Ladyship hath been called to serve religion in a family wherein it hath long 
flourished, and which it hath dignified beyond all the splendour that anti- 
quity and secular greatness could confer upon it." 

K 2 



196 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



in the county of Bucks, at whose request it was 
written. The discourse " On Charity in reference 
to other Men's Sins," originated in the following 
circumstances. 

A person who had been for some time a colleague 
of Howe, and whose name was Daniel Bull, having 
been betrayed into some grievous immorality, the 
irreligious, as usual, set up a shout of triumph, 
Howe, who was ever ready to throw the mantle of 
love over the failings of an erring brother, exposed 
from the pulpit, in a most cogent manner, the 
malignity and folly of such exultation. The sermon 
he afterwards published, by request, under the above 
title. The " preface" is exquisite in sentiment, 
and often in expression ; and the close, also, is 
exceedingly eloquent. On such a subject Howe 
had a peculiar right to speak, for the principles he 
lays down were never more fully exemplified in any 
man's life than in his own. 

It is proper to add, that Mr. Bull became truly 
penitent, and died generally esteemed for his piety 
and humility. 

This same year, Howe published his Funeral 
Sermon for Margaret, the wife of Richard Baxter, 
from the text, " We are confident, I say, and willing 
rather to be absent from the body, and to be present 
with the Lord." * It is dedicated to Baxter. 

In 1682, (public affairs continuing in the same 
gloomy state,) Howe seems to have employed his 
solitude much in the same manner as during the 



* 2 Cor. v. 8. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



197 



preceding year. Restricted in the exercise of his 
public ministry, he sought to extend his usefulness 
by means of the press. His publications this year 
were numerous. The first was, " The Right Use of 
the Argument in Prayer from the Name of God, on 
Behalf of a People who profess it the second, his 
well-known sermon on " Self-Dedication." It was 
preached "at the anniversary thanksgiving for a 
great deliverance vouchsafed" to the Earl of Kildare, 
Baron of Ophalia, to whom it is dedicated.* There 
is one passage in this dedication which is much after 
the manner of Jeremy Taylor : — 

" Your Lordship was pleased to allow an hour to tlie hear- 
ing of that discourse. What was proposed to you in it, is to 
be the business of your life. And what is to be done con- 
tinually, is once to be thoroughly done. The impression 
ought to be very inward, and strong, which must be so last- 
ing as to govern a man's life. And were it as fully done as 
mortality can admit, it needs be more solemnly renewed at 
set times for that purpose. And, indeed, that such a day 
should not pass you without a fall, nor that fall be without a 
hurt, and that hurt proceed unto a wound, and that wound 
not be mortal, but even next to it, looks like an artifice and 
contrivance of Providence, to show you how near it could go 
without cutting 1 through that slender thread of life; that it 
might endear to you its accurate superintendency over your 
life ; that there might here be a remarkable juncture in that 
thread ; and that whensoever such a day should revolve in the 
circle of your year, it might come again and again, with a 

* This was John Fitzgerald, eighteenth earl. His uncle Eobert married 
a daughter of Colonel James Clotworthy, related to the Massarene 
family. This may account for Howe's acquaintance with him. The 
Countess of Kildare was esteemed one of the most amiable women of her 
time. 



198 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



note upon it under your eye, and appear ever to you as another 
birth- day, or as an earlier day of resurrection." 

His third publication this year was an eloquent 
Funeral Sermon for the Rev. Richard Fairclough, 
entitled, " The Faithful Steward Applauded and 
Rewarded." In the same year, he also composed 
the Annotations on the three Epistles of St. John, 
forming a part of the second volume of Pool's 
Annotations.* 

In 1683, appeared his justly-celebrated dis- 
course on u Union among Protestants ; or, An 
Answer to the Question, i What may most hope- 
fully be attempted to allay Animosities - among 
Protestants, so that our Divisions may not be our 
Ruin?'"t This was a subject to which Howe 
was admirably qualified to do justice, and which, 
throughout his life, was inexpressibly dear to him. 
Here his enlarged and truly catholic spirit — his 
superiority to all the littleness of party feeling — 
his absorbing solicitude for the interest of real re- 
ligion, whatever its outward forms — display them- 
selves to the greatest advantage. His text was that 
sublime prayer of the apostle for the Colossians, 
" That their hearts might be comforted, being knit 
together in love, and unto all riches of the full 
assurance of understanding, to the acknowledgment 
of the mystery of God, and of the Father, and of 
Christ." J He declares, at the commencement, that 

* Pool died before this work was finished. It was completed by different 
persons after his death. 

t Published in the Continuation of the Morning Exercise. 
X Col. ii. 2. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 199 

it is by no means his design to discuss " what 
might be attempted towards remedying the evils 
in question by laws and public constitutions," or to 
argue any of the points controverted by the several 
parties ; but to urge on all those parties alike the 
great moral means, by which a unity might be se- 
cured far more noble than that of identity of opinion. 
This, he tells us, might be effected " by the main- 
taining sincere love among Christians, and the im- 
proving of their faith to greater measures of clear- 
ness, certainty, and efficacy, in reference to the 
substantiate of Christianity." None, I would fain 
believe, can read the passages which occur in the 
discussion of the first of the two above-mentioned 
topics, without feeling, for a moment, at least, 
elevated above the meanness of party spirit, and 
emulous of imitating the sublime charity of the 
author. 

In this discourse he also enters into a full aud 
very philosophical disquisition on the causes which 
often determine men's tastes and preferences in 
favour of this or that system of religious worship, 
and from thence deduces the lessons of forbearance, 
which, on this as well as on other and higher 
accounts, Christians should mutually practise. 

In the second part, he urges the necessity of 
u attaining a deeper sense of the importance and 
truth of the substantials of Christianity and then 
proceeds to show how this would operate to the 
proposed end. It would fill the mind, he tells 
his hearers, with an habitual persuasion " of the 
infinitely greater importance of those things in 



200 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



which Christians agree, than of those in which 
they differ." 

The whole discourse is adapted not only for those 
times, but for all, and is worthy of the serious, devout 
perusal of persons of all religious parties. 

On the 20th of July, 1683, was beheaded the 
truly noble William Lord Russell, in atrocious 
violation of every principle of equity and justice. 
Lady Russell, who during the trial of her noble 
husband had borne up with unparalleled fortitude, 
drooped after his death, and for a time seemed 
hopelessly overwhelmed with the contemplation of 
her dreadful loss. Howe, touched with the melan- 
choly accounts he had received of her, addressed to 
her the following anonymous letter of consolation : — 

" Madam, 

" It can avail you nothing, to let your honour know 
from what hand this paper comes ; and my own design in it 
is abundantly answered if what it contains proves useful to 
you. Your affliction hath been great, unspeakably beyond 
what it is in my power or design to represent ; and your 
supports (in the paroxysm of your affliction) have been very 
extraordinary ; and such as wherein all that have observed or 
heard, could not but acknowledge a Divine hand. 

" But your affliction was not limited and enclosed within 
the limits of one black day, nor is like those more common 
ones, the sense whereof abates and wears off by time ; but is 
continued, and probably more felt, as time runs on : which 
therefore makes you need continued help from Heaven every 
day. 

" Yet there is here a great difference between what expec- 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



201 



tations we may have of Divine assistance, in the beginning 
or first violence of some great affliction, and in the continued 
course of it afterwards. At first we are apt to be astonished ; 
a consternation seizes our thinking faculty, especially as to 
that exercise of it whereby it should minister to our relief. 
In this case the merciful God doth more extraordinarily 
assist such as sincerely trust and resign themselves to him ; 
unto these, as his more peculiar favourites, his sustaining 
influences are more immediate, and more efficacious, so as 
even (in the present exigency) to prevent and supersede any 
endeavour of theirs, whereof they are, then, less capable. 
And of the largeness and bounty of his goodness, in such a 
case, few have had greater experience than your ladyship ; 
which was eminently seen, in that magnanimity, that compo- 
sure and presentness of mind, much admired by your friends, 
and no doubt by the special favour of Heaven afforded you in 
the needful season : so that while that amazing calamity was 
approaching, and stood in nearer view, nothing that was fit 
or wise or great was omitted, nothing indecent done : which 
is not now said, God knows, to flatter your ladyship, (whereof 
the progress will further vindicate me,) for I ascribe it to 
God, as I trust your ladyship, with unfeigned gratitude, will 
also do. And I mention it, as that whereby you are under 
obligation to endeavour, your continued temper and deport- 
ment may be agreeable to such beginnings. 

a For now (which is the other thing whereof a distinct 
observation ought to be had) in the continuance and settled 
state of the affliction, when the fury of the first assault is 
over, and we have had leisure to recollect ourselves, and 
recover our dissipated spirits, though we are then more 
sensible of pain and smart, yet also the power of using our 
own thoughts is restored. And being so, although we are 
too apt to use them to our greater hurt and prejudice, we 
are really put again into a capacity of using them to our 
advantage, which our good God doth in much wisdom and 
righteousness require we should do. Whereupon, we are to 

K 3 



202 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



expect his continual assistance for our support under con- 
tinued affliction in the way of concurrence and co-operation 
with our due use of our own thoughts, aptly chosen, as much 
as in us is, and designed by ourselves, for our own comfort 
and support. 

u Now as for thoughts suitable to your honour's case, I 
have reason to be conscious that what I shall write can make 
but little accession, I will not say to a closet, but to a mind, 
so well furnished, as you are owner of : yet I know it is 
remote from you to slight a well -intended offer and essay, 
that really proceeds only from a very compassionate sense of 
your sorrows, and unfeigned desire to contribute something 
(if the Father of mercies and the God of all comforts and 
consolations will please to favour the endeavour) to your 
relief. 

" And the thoughts which I shall most humbly offer, will 
have that first and more immediate design, — to persuade 
your making use of your own ; that is, that you would please 
to turn and apply them to subjects more apt to serve this 
purpose, the moderating your own grief, and the attaining an 
habitual well-tempered cheerfulness, for your remaining time 
in this world. For I consider how incident it is to the 
afflicted, to indulge to themselves an unlimited liberty in 
their sorrows, to give themselves up to them, to make them 
meat and drink, to justify them in all their excesses, as that 
(otherwise) good and holy man of God did his anger, and 
say, they 'do well to be sorrowful even to the death,' and (as 
another) c to refuse to be comforted.' And I also consider 
that our own thoughts must and will always be the immediate 
ministers either of our trouble or comfort, though as to the 
latter, God only is the supreme Author ; and we altogether 
insufficient to think anything that good is, as of ourselves. 
It is ' God that comforts those that are cast down/ but by 
our own thoughts employed to that purpose, not without 
them. 

" I do not doubt, madam, but if you once fixedly appre- 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



203 



hend that there is sin in an over-abounding sorrow, you will 
soon endeavour its restraint : for I cannot think you would 
more earnestly set yourself to avoid anything than what you 
apprehend will offend God, especially the doing that in a 
continued course. Is there any time when joy in God is a 
duty ? it is very plain the sorrow that excludes it is a sin. 
How the former may appear to be a duty, and how far, let it 
be considered. 

"It is not to be doubted but that He that made us hath a 
right to rule us ; He that gave us being, to give us law : nor 
again, that the Divine government reaches our minds, and 
that they are the prime and first seat of his empire. His 
kingdom is within us. We are not then to exercise our 
thoughts, desires, love, joy, or sorrow, according to our own 
will, but his ; not as we please, or find ourselves inclined, but 
suitably to his precepts and purposes, his rules and ends. 

" It is evident that withal the earthly state is mixed ; 
intermediate between the perfect felicity of heaven, and the 
total misery of hell : and further, that the temper of our 
spirits ought to have in it a mixture of joy and sorrow, pro- 
portionable to our state, or what there is in it of the just 
occasions or causes of both. 

" Where Christianity obtains, and the gospel of our Saviour 
is preached, there is much greater cause of joy than else- 
where. The visible aspect of it imports a design to form 
men's minds to gladness, inasmuch as, wheresoever it comes, 
it proclaims peace to the world, and represents the offended 
Majesty of heaven willing to be reconciled to his offending 
creatures on earth. So the angel prefaced the gospel, when 
our Lord was born into the world, ' I tell you glad tidings of 
great joy, which shall be to all people.' And so the multi- 
tude of accompanying angels sum it up : ' Glory be to God in 
the highest, peace on earth, good will towards men.' 

" To them that truly receive the gospel, and with whom it 
hath its effect, the cause of rejoicing riseth much higher. 
For if the offer and hope of reconciliation be a just ground of 



204 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



joy, how much, more actual agreement with God, upon the 
terms of the gospel, and reconciliation itself! 'We rejoice 
in God through Jesus Christ, by whom we have received the 
atonement/ To such there are express precepts given to 
1 rejoice in the Lord always.' And lest that should be 
thought to have been spoken hastily, and that it might 
have its full weight, that great apostle immediately adds, 
' And again I say to you, Rejoice.' And elsewhere, ' Rejoice 
evermore.' 

" Hence, therefore, the genuine right temper and frame of 
a truly Christian mind and spirit may be evidently concluded 
to be this, (for such precepts do not signify nothing, nor can 
they be understood to signify less,) an habitual joyfulness, 
prevailing over all the temporary occasions of sorrow that 
occur to them. For none can be thought of that can prepon- 
derate, or be equal to the just and great causes of their joy. 
This is the true frame, model, and constitution of the king- 
dom of God, which ought to have place in us ; herein it 
consists, in ' righteousness, and peace, and joy in the Holy 
Ghost.' 

" Not is this a theory only, or the idea and notion of an 
excellent temper of spirit, which we may contemplate indeed, 
but can never attain to. For we find it also to have been the 
attainment and usual temper of Christians heretofore, ' that 
being justified by faith, and having peace with God,' they 
have rejoiced in hope of the glory of God, unto that degree, 
as ( even to glory in their tribulations also.' And that in the 
confidence they should be ' kept by the power of God through 
faith unto salvation,' they have hereupon greatly rejoiced, 
though with some mixture of heaviness (whereof there was 
need) from their manifold trials. But that their joy did 
surmount and prevail over their heaviness is manifest; for 
this is spoken of with much diminution, whereas they are 
said to rejoice greatly, and with ( a joy unspeakable and full 
of glory.' 

" Yea, and such care hath the great God taken for the 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



205 



preserving of this temper of spirit among his people more 
anciently, that even their sorrow for sin itself (the most 
justifiable of all other) hath had restraints put upon it, lest it 
should too long exclude or intermit the exercise of this joy. 
For when a great assembly of them were universally in tears, 
upon hearing the law read, and the sense given, they were 
forbidden to weep or mourn, or be sorry, 'because the joy of 
the Lord was their strength.' That most just sorrow had 
been unjust had it been continued so as to exclude the 
seasonable turn and alternation of this joy. For even such 
sorrow itself is not required, or necessary for itself. It is 
remote from the goodness and benignity of God's ever- 
blessed nature to take pleasure in the sorrows of his people, 
as they are such, or that they should sorrow for sorrow's 
sake ; but only as a means and preparative to their following 
joy. And nothing can be more unreasonable, than that the 
means should exclude the end, or be used against the purpose 
they should serve. 

"It is then upon the whole most manifest, that no tem- 
porary affliction whatsoever, upon one who stands in special 
relation to God, as a reconciled (and, which is consequent, an 
adopted) person, though attended with the most aggravating 
circumstances, can justify such a sorrow (so deep or so con- 
tinued) as shall prevail against and shut out a religious holy 
joy, or hinder it from being the prevailing principle in such 
a one. What can make that sorrow allowable or innocent, 
(what event of Providence, that can, whatever it is, be no 
other than an accident to our Christian state,) that shall resist 
the most natural design and end of Christianity itself ? that 
shall deprave and debase the truly Christian temper, and 
disobey and violate most express Christian precepts ? subvert 
the constitution of Christ's kingdom among men? and turn 
this earth (the place of God's treaty with the inhabitants of 
it, in order to their reconciliation to himself; and to the 
reconciled, the portal and gate of heaven, yea, and where the 
state of the very worst and most miserable has some mixture 



206 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



of good in it, that makes the evil of it less than that of hell) 
into a mere hell to themselves, of sorrow without mixture, 
and wherein shall be nothing but weeping and wailing ? 

" The cause of your sorrow, madam, is exceeding great. 
The causes of your joy are inexpressibly greater. You have 
infinitely more left than you have lost. Doth it need to be 
disputed whether God be better and greater than man ? or 
more to be valued, loved, and delighted in ? and whether an 
eternal relation be more considerable than a temporary one ? 
Was it not your constant sense in your best outward state, 
' Whom have I in heaven but thee, God ? and whom can I 
desire on earth, in comparison of thee ?' Herein the state of 
your ladyship's case is still the same ; if indeed you cannot 
with greater clearness and with less hesitation pronounce 
those latter words. The principal causes of your- joy are 
immutable, such as no supervening thing can alter. You 
have lost a most pleasant, delectable, earthly relative. Doth 
the blessed God hereby cease to be the best and most excel- 
lent Good ? Is his nature changed ? his everlasting cove- 
nant reversed and annulled, ' which is ordered in all things 
and sure, and is to be all your salvation and all your desire, 
whether he make your house on earth to grow or not to 
grow?' That sorrow which exceeds the proportion of its 
cause, compared with the remaining true and real causes of 
rejoicing, is in that excess causeless ; that is, that excess of it 
wants a cause, such as can justify or afford defence unto it. 

" We are required, in reference to our nearest relations in 
this world, when we lose them, ' to weep as if we wept not,' 
as well as, when we enjoy them, to ' rejoice as if we rejoiced 
not, because our time here is short, and the fashion of this 
world passeth away.' 

" We are finite beings, and so are they. Our passions in 
reference to them must not be infinite and without limit, or 
be limited only by the limited capacity of our nature, so as to 
work to the utmost extent of that, as the fire burns and the 
winds blow, as much as they can : but they are to be limited 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



207 



by the power, design, and endeavour of our reason and grace 
(not only by the mere impotency of our nature) in reference 
to all created objects. Whereas, in reference to the infinite 
uncreated (rood, towards which there is no danger or possi- 
bility of exceeding in our affection, we are never to design to 
ourselves any limits at all ; for that would suppose we had 
loved God enough, or as much as he deserved, which were 
not only to limit ourselves, but him too ; and were a construc- 
tive denial of his infinite immense goodness, and consequently 
of his very Godhead. Of so great a concernment it is to us, 
that in the liberty we give our affections, we observe the just 
difference which ought to be in their exercise, towards God, 
and towards creatures. 

" It is also to be considered, that the great God is pleased 
so to condescend, as himself to bear the name and sustain the 
capacity of our nearest earthly relations ; which implies that 
what they were to us, in this or that kind, he will be in 
a transcendent and far more noble kind. I doubt not but 
your ladyship hath good right to apply to yourself those 
words of the prophet, ' Thy Maker is thy husband.' Where- 
upon, as he infinitely transcends all that is delectable in the 
most excellent earthly relation, it ought to be endeavoured, 
that the affection placed on him should proportionably excel. 
I cannot think any person in the world would be a more 
severe or impartial judge of a criminal affection than your 
ladyship : or that it would look worse unto any eye, if anyone 
should so deeply take to heart the death of an unrelated 
person, as never to take pleasure more in the life, presence, 
and conversation of one most nearly related. And you do 
well know that such a height (or that supremacy) of affec- 
tion as is due to the ever-blessed God, cannot without great 
injury be placed anywhere else. As we are to have none 
other God before him, so him alone we are to love with all 
our heart and soul, and might and mind. 

" And it ought further to be remembered, that whatsoever 
interest we have or had in any the nearest relative on earth, 



208 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



his interest who made both is far superior. He made us and 
all things primarily for himself, to serve great and important 
ends of his own ; so that our satisfaction in any creature 
is but secondary and collateral to the principal design of its 
creation. 

" Which consideration would prevent a practical error and 
mistake that is too usual with pious persons, afflicted with 
the loss of any near relation, that they think the chief 
intention of such a providence is their punishment. And 
hereupon they are apt to justify the utmost excesses of their 
sorrow upon such an occasion, accounting they can never be 
sensible enough of the Divine displeasure appearing in it ; 
and make it their whole business (or employ their time or 
thoughts beyond a due proportion) to find out and fasten 
upon some particular sin of theirs, which they may judge 
God was offended with them for, and designed now to punish 
upon them. It is, indeed, the part of filial ingenuity deeply 
to apprehend the displeasure of our father ; and an argument 
of great sincerity, to be very inquisitive after any sin for 
which we may suppose him displeased with us, and apt to 
charge ourselves severely with it, though perhaps, upon 
utmost inquiry, there is nothing particularly to be reflected 
on, other than common infirmity incident to the best, (and it 
is well when at length we can make that judgment, because 
there really is no more, not for that we did not inquire,) and 
perhaps also God intended no more in such a dispensation, 
(as to what concerned us in it,) than only, in the general, to 
take off our minds and hearts more from this world, and 
draw them more entirely to himself. For if we were never 
so innocent, must therefore such a relative of ours have been 
immortal ? But the error in practice as to this case, lies 
here ; not that our thoughts are much exercised this way, but 
too much. We ought to consider in every case, principally, 
that which is principal. God did not create this or that 
excellent person, and place him for a while in the world, 
principally to please us ; nor therefore doth he take him away, 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



209 



principally to displease or punish us ; but for much nobler 
and greater ends which he hath proposed to himself concern- 
ing him. Nor are we to reckon ourselves so little interested 
in the great and sovereign Lord of all, whom we have taken 
to be our Grod, and to whom we have absolutely resigned and 
devoted ourselves, as not to be obliged to consider and satisfy 
ourselves, in his pleasure, purposes, and ends, more than our 
own apart from his. 

"Such, as he hath pardoned, accepted, and prepared for 
himself, are to serve and glorify him in a higher and more 
excellent capacity than they ever could in this wretched 
world of ours, and wherein they have themselves the highest 
satisfaction. When the blessed God is pleased in having 
attained and accomplished the end and intendments of his 
own boundless love, (too great to be satisfied with the confer- 
ring of only temporary favours in this imperfect state,) and 
they are pleased in partaking the full effects of that love ; 
who are we, that we should be displeased ? or that we should 
oppose our satisfaction, to that of the glorious Grod and his 
glorified creature? Therefore, madam, whereas you cannot 
avoid to think much on this subject, and to have the removal 
of that incomparable person for a great theme of your thoughts, 
I do only propose most humbly to your honour, that you 
would not confine them to the sadder and darker part of that 
theme. It hath also a bright side ; and it equally belongs to 
it, to consider whither he is gone, and to whom, as whence 
and from whom. Let, I beseech you, your mind be more 
exercised in contemplating the glories of that state your 
blessed consort is translated unto, which will mingle pleasure 
and sweetness with the bitterness of your afflicting loss, by 
giving you a daily intellectual participation (through the 
exercise of faith and hope) in his enjoyments. He cannot 
descend to share with you in your sorrows ; you nw thus 
every day ascend, and partake with him in his joys. He is a 
pleasant subject to consider : a prepared spirit made meet for 
an inheritance with them that are sanctified, and with the 



210 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



saints in light, now entered into a state so connatural, and 
wherein it finds everything most agreeable to itself. How 
highly grateful is it to be united with the true centre, and 
come home to the Father of spirits ! To consider how plea- 
sant a welcome, how joyful an entertainment he hath met 
with above ; how delighted an associate he is ' with the 
general assembly, the innumerable company of angels, and 
the spirits of just men made perfect ;' how joyful a homage 
he continually pays to the throne of the celestial King ! 

"Will your ladyship think that a hard saying of our 
departing Lord to his mournful disciples, ' If ye loved me, ye 
would rejoice that I said, I go to the Father ; for my Father 
is greater than I?' As if he said, he sits enthroned in higher 
glory than you can frame any conception of, by beholding me 
in so mean a condition on earth. We are as remote, and 
as much short in our thoughts as to the conceiving the glory 
of the Supreme King, as a peasant, who never saw anything 
better than his own cottage, from conceiving the splendour of 
the most glorious prince's court. But if that faith, which ' is 
the substance of things hoped for/ and ' the evidence of things 
not seen, 5 be much accustomed to its proper work and busi- 
ness, — the daily delightful visiting and viewing the glorious 
invisible regions ; if it be often conversant in those vast and 
spacious tracts of pure and brightest light, and amongst the 
holy inhabitants that replenish them ; if it frequently employ 
itself in contemplating their comely order, perfect harmony, 
sublime wisdom, unspotted purity, most fervent mutual love, 
delicious conversation with one another, and perpetual plea- 
sant consent in their adoration and observance of their eternal 
King; who is there to whom it would not be a solace to 
think, £ I have such and such friends and relatives (some per- 
haps as dear as my own life) perfectly well pleased and happy 
among them?' How can your love, madam, (so generous a 
love towards so deserving an object !) how can it but more 
fervently sparkle in joy for his sake, than dissolve in tears for 
your own ? 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



211 



"Not should such thoughts excite over-hasty, impatient 
desires of following presently into heaven, but to the endea- 
vours of serving God more cheerfully on earth for our 
appointed time : which I earnestly desire your ladyship would 
a Ppfy yourself to, as you would not displease God, who is 
your only hope, nor be cruel to yourself, nor dishonour the 
religion of Christians, as if they had no other consolations 
than this earth can give, and earthly power take from them. 
Your ladyship (if any one) would be loth to do anything 
unworthy your family and parentage. Your highest alliance 
is to that Father and family above, whose dignity and honour 
are, I doubt not, of highest account with you. 

" I multiply words, being loth to lose my design ; and shall 
only add that consideration, which cannot but be valuable 
with you, upon his first proposal, who had all the advantages 
imaginable to give it its full weight ; I mean that of those dear 
pledges left behind : my own heart even bleeds to think of the 
case of those sweet babes, should they be bereaved of their 
other parent too. And even your continued visible dejection 
would be their unspeakable disadvantage. You will always 
naturally create in them a reverence of you ; and I cannot but 
apprehend how the constant mien, aspect, and deportment of 
such a parent will insensibly influence the temper of dutiful 
children ; and if that be sad and despondent, depress their 
spirits, blunt and take off the edge and quickness, upon which 
their future usefulness and comfort will much depend. Were 
it possible their now glorious father should visit and inspect 
you, would you not be troubled to behold a frown in that 
bright serene face ? You are to please a more penetrating 
eye ; which you will best do, by putting on a temper and 
deportment suitable to your weighty charge and duty, and 
to the great purposes for which God continues you in the 
world, by giving over unnecessary solitude and retirement, 
which (though it pleases) doth really prejudice you, and 
is more than you can bear. JNTor can any rules of decency 
require more. Nothing that is necessary and truly Christian, 



212 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



ought to be reckoned unbecoming. David's example* is of 
too great authority to be counted a pattern of indecency. The 
Grod of heaven lift up the light of his countenance upon you, 
and thereby put gladness into your heart ; and give you 
to apprehend him saying to you, ' Arise, and walk in the light 
of the Lord.' 

" That I have used so much freedom in this paper, I make 
no apology for ; but do, therefore, hide myself in the dark, 
not judging it consistent with that plainness which I thought 
the case might require, to give any other account of myself, 
than that I am one deeply sensible of your and your noble 
relatives' great affliction, and who scarce ever bow the knee 
before the mercy-seat without remembering it : and who shall 
ever be, 

" Madam, 

" Your ladyship's 

" Most sincere honourer, and 

" Most humble devoted servant." 

Though this epistle was anonymous, the pecu- 
liarities of style and manner, as well as some other 
circumstances, betrayed the author. The noble 
lady to whom it was addressed, replied in a letter of 
thanks, in which she told him, that "he must not 
expect to be concealed." This led to further corre- 
spondence, and eventually to an intimacy with the 
noble family of Bedford, which continued till his 
death. 

Who, on perusing the foregoing letter, can forbear 
to reflect, and to reflect with delight, on the diffu- 
sive character of that benevolence in which it origi- 
nated, and which is so beautifully illustrated at its 



* 2 Sam. xii. 20. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



213 



close ? The illustrious lady to whom it was ad- 
dressee!^ was an utter stranger to Howe, or was 
known to him, only as she was known to all the rest 
of the world — by the fame of her unutterable sor- 
rows. Yet the deep sympathies which the gospel 
inspired, induced him not only to address this elabo- 
rate and most affecting letter of consolation to her, 
but to make specific mention of her in his private 
devotions. He assures her that he "seldom bowed 
his knees before the mercy-seat without remember- 
ing her there." 

It is delightful to reflect that this is not a solitary 
instance,* though a most touching and impressive 
one, of the expansive spirit of Christian benevolence. 
Who can tell, indeed, how often that spirit prompts 
supplications in secret on behalf of those who little 
know the compassion their sorrows have inspired, 
and are personally strangers to the individuals who 
so benevolently plead for them ? Nay, more ; who 
can tell how often not only individuals, but com- 
munities, have been benefited by the " effectual and 
fervent," though secret and silent prayer of those 
who are in Scripture called "the salt of the earth 
and the light of the world ?" 

Is it fanciful to suppose, that in heaven, (where 
the methods of the Divine Providence, and the com- 
plicated system of means and instruments it has 
adopted, will, there is reason to believe, be more 
fully explained to us,) one source of delight to many, 

* For an illustration of these remarks, see the affecting correspondence 
between Mr. Sheppard and Lord Byron, in the well-known work entitled, 
"Thoughts on Private Devotion," pp. 343 — 350. 



214 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



will be the grateful discovery that on earth they 
have had unknown friends ; friends who have inter- 
ceded for them in secret ; friends who, in these, the 
highest exercises of charity, as well as in those of 
a more ordinary benevolence, have not suffered 
their " left hand to know" what " their right hand 
did?" 

In 1684, Howe published his treatise, entitled 
" The Redeemer's Tears wept over Lost Souls : with 
an Appendix, where somewhat is occasionally dis- 
coursed concerning the Blasphemy against the Holy 
Ghost, and how Grod is said to will the salvation of 
them that perish." 

During this year, the Nonconformists were perse- 
cuted with the most unrelenting ferocity. Not only 
sins of " commission," but those of " omission," 
were visited upon them : they were punished, not 
merely for frequenting the conventicle, but for not 
going to church, and for not taking the sacrament. 
In short, all those merciless laws which had been 
enacted a century before, and which bigotry, at 
much earlier and less enlightened periods, had 
often suffered to slumber, were now rigorously en- 
forced against the unhappy dissidents. 

To the shame of the episcopal bench, there were 
not wanting bishops, who hallooed on the inferior 
clergy and the civil magistrates, in this cruel and 
ignoble sport. Amongst them was Barlow, Bishop 
of Lincoln, of whom better things might have been 
expected ; but who now published, (concurrently 
with a most cruel order of the justices of the peace 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



215 



in a part of his diocese,* bearing date, January 14, 
1684) a most intemperate address to his clergy, on 
the necessity of enforcing the laws against the 
Nonconformists . 

On this, Howe sent him an anonymous letter of 
expostulation, of which a copy has happily been 
preserved. It was surely impossible for the prelate, 
however angry his present mood, to read it without 
some relentings of heart, inspired as it was by a 
Spirit so beautifully contrasted with that which had 
dictated his own mischievous and cruel appeal. 
Howe concludes his letter with the prayer, that if 
the prelate "had either misjudged, or misdone against 
his judgment, God would rectify his error by gentler 
methods and by less affliction than he had designed 
for his brethren;" and with the expression of his 
belief, that "he did not doubt after all (any more 
for the prelate's part than for his own) to meet him 
one clay in that place wdiere Luther and Zuinglius 
were well agreed." 

"Right Reverend, 
"As I inust confess myself surprised by your late pub- 
lished directions to your clergy of the county of Bedford, so 
nor will I dissemble, that I did read them with some trouble 
of mind, which I sincerely profess, was more upon your lord- 
ship's account than my own, (who for myself, am little con- 
cerned,) or any other particular person's whatsoever. It was 
such as it had not been very difficult for me to have con- 
cealed in my own breast, or only to have expressed it to God 
in my prayers for you, (which, through his grace, I have not 
altogether omitted to do,) if I had not apprehended it not 

* County of Bedford. 



216 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



utterly impossible, (as I trust I might, without arrogating 
unduly to myself,) that some or other of those thoughts, 
which I haye revolved in my own mind upon this Occasion, 
being only hinted to your lordship, might appear 1 to your 
very sagacious judgment (for which I have had long, and 
have still, a continuing veneration) some way capable of 
being cultivated by your own mature and second thoughts, 
so as not to be wholly unuseful to your lordship. 

"My own judgment, such as it is, inclines me not to 
oppose anything, either, 1. To the lawfulness of the things 
themselves which you so much desire should obtain in the 
practice of the people under your lordship's pastoral inspec- 
tion : or, 2. To the desirable comeliness of an uniformity in 
the public and solemn worship of Gfod : or, 3. To the fitness 
of making laws for the effecting of such uniformity : or, 4. 
To the execution of such laws, upon some such persons as 
may possibly be found among so numerous a people as are 
under your lordship's care. 

"But the things which I humbly conceive are to be 
deliberated on, are, 1. Whether all the laws that are in 
being about matters of that nature, ought now to be executed 
upon all the persons which any way transgress them, with- 
out distinction of either ? 2. Whether it was so well, that 
your lordship should advise and press that indistinct execu- 
tion, which the order (to which the subjoined directions of 
your lordship do succenturiate) seems to intend; supposing 
that designed execution were fit in itself. 

" I shall not need to speak severally to these heads : your 
lordship will sufficiently distinguish what is applicable the 
one way or the other. But I humbly offer to your lordship's 
further consideration, whether it be not a supposable thing, 
that some persons, sound in the faith, strictly orthodox in all 
the articles of it taught by our Lord Jesus or his apostles, 
resolvedly loyal, and subject to the authority of their gover- 
nors in church and state, of pious, sober, peaceable, just, 
charitable dispositions and deportments, may yet (while they 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



217 



agree with your lordship in that evident principle, both by 
the law of nature and Scripture, that their prince and in- 
ferior rulers ought to be actively obeyed in all lawful things) 
have a formed fixed judgment (for what were to be done in 
the case of a mere doubt, that hath not arrived to a settled 
preponderation this way or that, is not hard to determine) 
of the unlawfulness of some or other of the rites and modes 
of worship enjoined to be observed in this church ? For my 
own part, though, perhaps, I should not be found to differ 
much from your lordship in most of the things here referred 
unto, I do yet think that few metaphysical questions are 
disputed with nicer subtlety, than the matter of the ceremo- 
nies ha^ been by Archbishop Whitgift, Cartwright, Hooker, 
Parker, Dr. Burgess, Dr. Ames, Grillespy, J eanes, Calderwood, 
Dr. Owen, Baxter, etc. Now, is it impossible that a sincere 
and sober Christian may, with an honest heart, have so weak 
intellectuals, as not to be able to understand all the punctilios 
upon which a right judgment of such a matter may depend ? 
And is it not possible there may be such a thing as a mental 
as well as a merely sensitive antipathy, not vincible by 
ordinary methods ? Is there no difference to be put between 
things essential to our religion, and things confessed indif- 
ferent on the one hand, and on the other judged unlawful; 
on both hands but accidental ? (though they that think them 
unlawful dare not allow themselves a liberty of sinning even 
in accidentals.) If your lordship were the 'paterfamilias' to 
a numerous family of children and servants, among whom 
one or other very dutiful child takes offence, not at the sort 
of food you have thought fit should be provided, but some- 
what in the sauce or way of dressing, which thereupon he 
forbears ; you try all the means which your paternal wisdom 
and severity think fit, to overcome that aversion, but in vain ; 
would you finally famish this child rather than yield to his 
inclination in so small a thing ? 

" My Lord, your lordship well knows the severity of some 
of those laws which you press for the execution of, is such as, 

L 



218 LIFE OF HOTTE. 



being executed, they must infer the utter ruin of them who 
observe them not, in their temporal concernments ; and not 
that only, but their deprivation of the comfortable advan- 
tages appointed by our blessed Lord for promoting their 
spiritual and eternal well-being. I cannot but be well per- 
suaded not only of the mere sincerity, but eminent sanctity 
of divers, upon my own knowledge and experience of them, 
who would sooner die at a stake, than I or any man can 
prevail with them (notwithstanding our rubric, or whatever 
can be said to facilitate the matter) to kneel before the con- 
secrated elements at the Lord's table. Would your lordship 
necessitate such, perdere substantiam propter accidentia ? What 
if there be considerable numbers of such in your lordship's 
vastly numerous flock ; will it be comfortable to you, when 
an account is demanded of your lordship by the great Shep- 
herd and Bishop of souls concerning them, only to be able to 
say, 'Though, Lord, I did believe the provisions of thine 
house purchased for them, necessary and highly useful for 
their salvation, I drove them away as dogs and swine from 
thy table, and stirred up such other agents as I could in- 
fluence against them, by whose means I reduced many of 
them to beggary, ruined many families, banished them into 
strange countries, where they might (for me) serve other 
gods ; and this not for disobeying any immediate ordinance 
or law of thine, but because, for fear of oflending thee, they 
did not in everything comport with my own appointments, 
or which I was directed to urge and impose upon them ? 
How well would this practice agree with that apostolica' 
precept, i Him that is weak in the faith receive, but ■ not t( 
doubtful disputations?' I know not how your lordship 
would relieve yourself in this case, but by saying they wer( 
not weak, nor conscientious, but wilful and humoursome 
But what shall then be said to the subjoined expostulation 
' Who art thou that judgest thy brother ? we shall all stanc 
before the judgment seat of Christ/ What if they hav 
appeared conscientious, and of a very unblamable conversa 



LIFE OF HOWE. 219 

tion in all things else ? What if better qualified for Chris- 
tian communion in all other respects than thousands you 
admitted ? If you say you know of none such under your 
charge so severely dealt with, it will be said, ' Why did you 
use such severity toward them you did not know ? or urge 
and animate them to use it, whom you knew never likely to 
distinguish ?'' Avery noted divine of the Church of Eng- 
land said to me in discourse, not very long ago, upon mention 
of the ceremonies, ' Come, come, the Christian church and 
religion is in a consumption ; and it ought to be done as in 
the case of consumptive persons — shave off the hair to save 
the life/ Another (a dignified person) present, replied, ' I 
doubt not it will be so in the Philadelphian state/ I long 
thought few had been in the temper of their minds nearer it 
than your lordship ; and am grieved, not that I so judged, 
but that I am mistaken ; and to see your lordship the first 
public example to the rest of your order in such a course. 
Blessed Lord ! how strange is it that so long experience will 
not let us see, that little and so very disputable matters can 
never be the terms of union so much to be desired in the 
Christian church ; and that, in such a case as ours is, nothing 
will satisfy but the destruction of them, whose union upon so 
nice terms we cannot obtain ; and then to call soUtudinem> 
pacem ! But we must, it seems, understand all this rigour 
your lordship shows, to proceed from love, and that you are 
for destroying the Dissenters only to mend their understand- 
ings, and because afflictio dat intellectum. I hope, indeed, 
God will sanctify the affliction which you give and procure 
them, to blessed purposes ; and, perhaps, periissent nisi peri- 
issent : but for the purposes your lordship seems to aim at, I 
wonder what you can expect. Can you, by undoing men, 
change the judgment of their consciences ? or if they should 
tell you, 'We do, indeed, in our consciences judge, we shall 
greatly offend God by complying with your injunctions ; but 
yet, to save being undone, we will do it ; ' will this qualify 
them for your communion ? If your lordship think still you 

L 2 



220 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



have judged and advised well in this matter, you have the 
judgment of our sovereign, upon twelve years' experience, 
lying against you : you have, as to one of the laws you would 
have executed, the judgment of both houses of parliament 
against you, who passed a bill (to which, perhaps, you con- 
sented) for taking it away. You have (as to all of them) the 
judgment of the last House of Commons sitting at West- 
minster, so far as to the season then, of executing those laws. 
It may be your lordship thinks it now a fitter season ; but if 
you have misjudged, or misdone against your judgment, I 
pray God to rectify your error by gentler methods, and by 
less affliction, than you have designed to your brethren ; and 
do not, for all this, doubt (any more for your part than my 
own) to meet you there, one day, where Luther and Zuinglius 
are well agreed. If I did think that would contribute any- 
thing to the honest and truly charitable design of this letter, 
I should freely, and at large, tell you my name ; and do, 
however, tell you I am, 

" A sincere honourer of your lordship, 

" And your very faithful, humble Servant." 




CHAPTER IX. 



FROM 16S5 TO 1690. 

CONDUCT OF HOWE IN PERSECUTION — IS INVITED BY LORD WHARTON TO 
ACCOMPANY HIM IN HIS TRAVELS ON THE CONTINENT — HIS LETTER OF 
FAREWELL TO HIS FLOCK — REFLECTIONS — SETTLES AT UTRECHT — MODE OF 
LIFE THERE — CORRESPONDENCE WITH LADY RUSSELL — INTERVIEW WITH 
BURNET — IS INTRODUCED TO THE PRINCE OF ORANGE — INDULGENCE OF 
JAMES H. — HOWE RETURNS HOME — CONDUCT OF THE NONCONFORMISTS 
WITH RESPECT TO THE DESIGNS OF THE COURT — HOWE'S INTERVIEW WITH 
THE KING— CURIOUS SCENE AT DR. SHERLOCK'S — THE REVOLUTION OF 1688 
— HOWE'S ADDRESS TO THE PRINCE OF ORANGE — HOWE'S LETTER ON BEHALF 
OF THE FRENCH PROTESTANTS — HE PUBLISHES HIS "CASE OF THE DIS- 
SENTERS REPRESENTED AND ARGUED " — ACT OF TOLERATION — HOWE'S 
ADDRESS TO THE CONFORMISTS AND NONCONFORMISTS ON THAT EVENT. 

It was remarked in the Introductory Chapter, that 
t seems to have been the habitual desire of Howe to 
render all the events of life, every combination of 
external circumstances in which he might be placed, 
subservient to the sublime purposes of spiritual 
discipline. Of the success with which his efforts 
were attended, a more signal proof can hardly be 
imagined than the even temper, the serene spirit of 
meekness and love, which he maintained amidst the 
severest persecution ; and of the many exhibitions 
of excellence with which his character delights us, 
none inspires us with greater delight than this. As 



222 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



the maintenance of a truly Christian spirit is far 
more difficult under such circumstances than under 
my other, so, when it is maintained, it argues a 
proportionate energy of religious principle. 

" Persecution," as the intrepid John. Hicks said to 
Charles II., "will drive a wise man mad." Though 
it does not justify, it almost inevitably excites a 
bitter and vindictive spirit. Such feelings may be 
less criminal than the conduct which has provoked 
them, but they are still flagrantly inconsistent with 
the spirit of the gospel. Yet rare indeed is that 
command of temper — that deep and all-pervading 
charity — which, under the burning consciousness of 
wrong, can suppress the emotions of anger and 
impatience. This, however, was the case with 
Howe. Injury and oppression could not discompose 
his calm and stedfast spirit ; or, rather, they only 
served to exhibit, in novel and striking aspects, the 
various excellence of his character. To a spirit such 
as his, the darkest scenes of persecution were but 
what the clouds of evening are to the setting sun, 
which, so far from obscuring, transmit and diffuse its 
radiance. Of this, one instance has been already 
furnished in the letter which concludes the preceding 
chapter ; and the document, which I am about to 
lay before the reader, furnishes another still more 
remarkable. 

In 1685, the persecution of the nonconformists 
had reached its height, and the prospect at home 
was in every respect most gloomy.* Under these 

* »Sa« Howe's own dreadful account of the sufferings of the noncon- 
formists in the " Case of the Dissenters ;" inserted further on. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



223 



circumstances, Howe gladly embraced the invitation 
of Philip, Lord Wharton,* to accompany him in 
his travels on the Continent. The interval which 
elapsed between the proposal and his departure 
(which was in August) was so short, that he could 
take no formal leave of his people. From the Con- 
tinent, therefore, he sent them a most affecting 
farewell letter. 

In this letter, he says little (though what he does 
say is deeply touching) of the sufferings he must 
have undergone previously to his leaving England. 
It was not his wont to speak much of himself. 

His main solicitude is evidently for the welfare 
of his flock. That this might be truly promoted, he 
exhorts them to endeavour to attain a more deep, 
habitual, practical sense of religion ; and, at the 
conclusion, guards them against indulging, under 
the pressure of persecution and suffering, in a spirit 
either of repining towards God, or of bitterness 
towards man. He declares that one of his own 
chief consolations in suffering has been his " con- 
sciousness that he had no other than kind or benign 
thoughts towards those whom he has suffered by, 
and that his heart tells him he desires not the least 
hurt to those that would do him the greatest ; that 
he feels within himself an unfeigned love and high 
estimation of divers of them, accounting them pious, 

* This nobleman had taken an active part in favour of the Parliament 
against Charles I. He was one of the lay members of the Westminster 
Assembly, and a decided nonconformist. Locke gives him the character 
of "an old expert Parliament man, of eminent piety and abilities; a great 
friend to the Protestant religion and interest of England." 



224 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



worthy persons, and hoping to meet them in the all- 
reconciling world." The all -reconciling world ! How 
beautiful is that expression ! 

The whole document, which is strikingly charac- 
teristic of his contempt for the distinctions of party, 
of his supreme regard for the essence of religion in 
whatsoever party found, and of his devotedness as a 
pastor, is here subjoined : — 

"TO SUCH IN AND ABOUT LONDON, AMONG WHOM I HAVE 
LABOURED IN THE WORK OF THE GOSPEL. 

" My most dearly beloved in our blessed Lord and Saviour 
Jesus Christ, grace, mercy, and peace be through him multi- 
plied unto you. 

" That I am, at this time, at this distance from you, 
is, I am persuaded, (upon the experience I have had of your 
great love and value of my poor labours,) not pleasant to you, 
and I do assure you it is grievous to me, though I murmur 
not at the wise and holy Providence that hath ordered things 
thus, in reference to you and me : but it added to my trouble, 
that I could not so much as bid farewell to persons to whom I 
had so great endearments, the solemnity whereof you know 
our circumstances would not admit. Nor could I have oppor- 
tunity to communicate to you the grounds of my taking this 
long journey, being under promise, while the matter was 
under consideration, not to speak of it to any one that was not 
concerned immediately about it : neither could I think that 
imprudent in itself, where acquaintance was so numerous, 
silence towards dearest friends in such cases usually being 
designed for an apology to all others. And, after the reso- 
lution was taken, my motion depending on another, I had 
not time for that, or any such purposes. And should I yet 
communicate them, as they lie particularly in my own 
thoughts, it would lose time that I may more profitably 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



225 



employ for both, you and myself, while I do it not. You will, 
I may be confident, be more prudent and equal, than to judge 
of what you do not know : but so much I shall in the general 
say, that the providence of Grod gave me the prospect of 
a present quiet abode, with some opportunity of being ser- 
viceable ; (and I hope, as it may prove through his help and 
blessing, unto you, if I have life and health to finish what 
I have been much pressed by some of yourselves to go on 
with ;) which opportunity I could not hope to have nearer 
you, at least without being unreasonably burdensome to some, 
while I was designing service, as much as in me lay, to all. 
It much satisfies me that I have a record above, I am not 
designing for myself ; that he who knoweth all things, knows 
I love not this present world, and I covet not an abode in it, 
(nor have I when it was most friendly to me,) upon any other 
account than upon doing some service to him, and the souls 
of men. It therefore has been my settled habitual sense and 
sentiment a long time, to value and desire (with submission to 
sovereign good pleasure) peace and quiet, with some tolerable 
health, more than life. Nor have I found anything more 
destructive to my health, than confinement to a room a few 
days in the city air, which was much better and more health- 
ful to me formerly, than since the anger and jealousies of such 
as I never had a disposition to offend, have of later times 
occasioned persons of my circumstances very seldom to walk 
the streets. 

" But my hope is, Grod will in his good time incline the 
hearfk of rulers more to favour such as cannot be satisfied 
with the public constitutions in the matters of God's worship, 
and that are innocent and peaceable in the land ; and that my 
absence from you will be for no long time, it being my design, 
with dependence upon his gracious providence and pleasure, 
in whose hands our times are, if I hear of any door open for 
service with you, to spend the health and strength which Grod 
shall vouchsafe me, (and which I find through his mercy much 
improved since I left you,) in his work with and among you. 

L 3 



226 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



Iii the meantime, I believe it will not be unacceptable to you, 
that I offer you some of my thoughts and counsels, for your 
present help, such as are not new to me, nor as you will find 
to yourselves, who are my witnesses that I have often incul- 
cated such things to you ; but they may be useful to stir you 
up, hy putting you in remembrance. 

" I. I beseech you, more earnestly endeavour to reduce the 
things you know (and have been by many hands instructed 
in out of the gospel of our Lord) to practice. Nothing can be 
more absurd than to content ourselves with only a notional 
knowledge of practical matters. We should think so in 
other cases. As if any man should satisfy himself to know 
the use of food, but famish himself by never eating any, when 
he hath it at hand : or that he understands the virtues of this 
or that cordial, but languishes away to death in the neglect of 
using it, when it might cheer his spirits, and save his life. 
And the neglect of applying the great things of the gospel to 
the proper uses and purposes of the Christian life, is not more 
foolish, (only as the concernments they serve for are more 
important,) but much more sinful and provoking to Gfod. For 
we are to consider whence the revelation comes. They are 
things which the mouth of the Lord hath spoken ; uttered by 
the breath of the eternal God, as all Scriptures are said to be. 
God-breathed, as that expression may be literally rendered. 

" And how high a contempt and provocation is it of the 
great God, so totally to pervert and disappoint the whole 
design of that revelation he hath made to us, to know the 
great things contained therein, only for knowing sake, which 
he hath made known that we might live by them. And, oh ! 
what holy and pleasant lives should we lead in this world, if 
the temper and complexion of our souls did answer and cor- 
respond to the things we know ! The design of preaching 
has been greatly mistaken, when it has been thought it must 
still acquaint them who live (and especially who have long- 
lived) under it, with some new thing. Its much greater and 
more important design is, the impressing of known things 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



227 



(but too little considered) upon the hearts of hearers, that they 
may be delivered up into the mould and form of the doctrine 
taught them; and may so learn Christ, as more and more to 
be renewed in the spirit of their minds, and put off the old 
man and put on the new. The digesting our food is what 
Gfod now eminently calls for. 

" II. More particularly labour to have your apprehensions 
of the future state of the unseen world and eternal things, 
made more lively and efficacious daily, and that your faith of 
them may be such as may truly admit to be called the very 
substance and evidence of those things. Shall that glorious 
everlasting state of things be always as a dark shadow with 
us, or as the images we have of things in a dream, ineffectual 
and vanishing, only because we have not seen with our eyes, 
where God himself hath by his express word made the repre- 
sentations of them to us, who never deceived us, as our own 
eyes and treacherous senses have done? Why do we not 
live as just now entering into the eternal state, and as if we 
now beheld the glorious appearing of the great Grod our 
Saviour, when we are as much assured of them as if we 
beheld them ? Why do we not oftener view the representa- 
tion of the heavens vanishing, the elements melting, the earth 
flaming, the angels everywhere dispersed to gather the elect, 
and them ascending, caught up to meet the Redeemer in the 
air, ever to be with the Lord ? What a trifle will the world 
be to us then ! 

" III. Let the doctrine of the Redeemer be more studied, 
and of his mighty undertaking, with the immediate design of 
it, not merely to satisfy for sin by the sacrifice he once for all 
made of himself, and so to procure our pardon and justifica- 
tion without effecting anything upon us, but to redeem us 
from all iniquity, to purify us to himself, and to form us after 
his own holy likeness, and for such purposes to give his Holy 
Spirit to us. Consider that our Redeemer is mighty, who 
hath such kind designs upon us ; and that as they shall not 
therefore finally fail of accomplishment, so will they be car- 



228 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



ried on without interruption, and with discernible success, if 
we fail not as to what part (in subordination to him) belongs 
to us. How cheerfully should the redeemed of the Lord go 
on in their course, under such conduct ! 

" TV. Endeavour your faith may be stronger, more effica- 
cious and practical, concerning the doctrine of providence, 
and that the workings and events of it lie all under the 
management and in the hand of the Redeemer, who is Head 
over all things to the church : that therefore how grievous 
and bitter soever be his people's lot and portion at any time, 
there cannot but be kindness at the bottom ; and that, not 
only designing the best end, but taking the fittest way to it. 
For can love itself be* unkind, so as not to design well ? or 
wisdom itself err so as to take an improper course in order 
thereto ? Hereupon let not your spirits be imbittered by the 
present dispensation of Providence you are under," whereby 
you are in so great a part deprived of the helps and means 
of your spiritual advantage, which you like and relish most. 
And to this purpose consider — 

" 1. Our wise and merciful Lord (though perhaps such 
means might be in some measure useful to us) doth for the 
present judge that his rebuking our undue use of them will be 
more useful ; either overvaluing or undeiwaluing his instru- 
ments, turning his ordinances into mere formalities, preferring 
the means of grace (as they are fitly called) before the end, 
grace itself. 

" 2. Consider whether there be no disposition of spirit 
to treat others as you are treated. The inward temper of our 
minds and spirits is so much the more narrowly to be in- 
spected, by how much the less there is opportunity to discover 
it by outward acts. As to such as differ from us about the 
forms and ceremonies that are now required in the worship 
of God, would we not be glad if they were as much restrained 
from using them in their worship, as we from worshipping 
without them ? And do not we think that that would as much 
grieve them, as our restraint doth us ? And why should we 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



229 



suppose that their way should not as much suit their spirits, 
and be as grateful to them, as ours to us ? ( But we are in 
the right way,' some will say, ' and they in the wrong :' and 
why cannot any man say the same thing with as much confi- 
dence as we ? Or, do we think there is no difference to be 
put between controversies about matter of circumstance, and 
about the essentials of Christianity ? Undoubtedly, till those 
that affect the name of the Reformed, and count it more their 
glory to be called Protestants than to be good Christians, 
have learnt to mingle more justice with their religion, and 
how better to apply that great advice of our Lord's, ' What- 
soever ye would that men should do to you, do that to them,' 
and till they become studious of excelling other men, in sub- 
stantial goodness, abstractedness from the world, meekness, 
humility, sobriety, self-denial, and charitj^, and to lay a greater 
stress hereon than on being of one or other denomination, 
God's controversy will not cease. 

" I reckon it much to be considered, and I pray you con- 
sider it deeply, that after that great precept, ' Grieve not the 
Holy Spirit of God,' it immediately follows, ' Let all bitter- 
ness, and anger, and wrath, and clamour, and evil speaking, 
be put away from you, with all malice : ' plainly implying 
that the Spirit of God, that Spirit of all love, goodness, 
sweetness, and benignity, is grieved by nothing more than by 
our bitterness, wrathfulness, etc. And it appears that the 
discernible restraint and departure of that blessed Spirit from 
the church of Christ in so great a measure, for many fore- 
going generations, in comparison of the plentiful effusion of 
it in the first age, hath ensued upon the growth of that 
wrathful contentious spirit which showed itself early in the 
Gnostic, but. much more in the after Arian persecution, 
which was not in some places less bloody than the pagan 
persecution had been before. Oh, the gentleness, kindness, 
tenderness, and compassionateness of the evangelical, truly 
Christian spirit, as it most eminently appeared in our Lord 
J esus Christ himself ! And we are told, ' If any man have 



230 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



not the Spirit of Christ, he is none of his.' And how easy 
and pleasant is it to one's own self, to be void of all wrathful - 
ness, and vindictive designs or inclinations towards any other 
man ! For my own part, I should not have that peace and 
consolation in a suffering condition, (as my being so many 
years under restraint from that pleasant work of pleading 
with sinners that they might be saved, is the greatest suffer- 
ing I was liable to in this world,) as through the goodness of 
Grod I have found, and do find, were I not conscious to myself 
of no other than kind and benign thoughts towards them I 
have suffered by, and that my heart tells me I desire not the 
least hurt to them that would do me the greatest ; and that I 
feel within myself an unfeigned love and high estimation of 
divers, accounting them pious worthy persons, and hoping to 
meet them in the all- reconciling world, that are yet (through 
some mistake) too harsh towards us who dissent from them ; 
and in things of this nature I pray that you and I may 
abound more and more. 

" But again, as I would not have your spirits imbittered, 
so I would not have your spirits discouraged, or sunk in 
dejection. ' The Lord will not cast off his people, because it 
hath pleased him to make them his people ; ' I do not mean 
those of this or that party, but who fear God and work 
righteousness, be they of what party soever. As I often 
think of that saying of an ancient, Clement of Alexandria, 
that he counted not that philosophy, which was peculiar to 
this or that sect, but whatsoever of truth was to be found in 
anv of them, so I say of Chiistianity ; it is not that which is 
appropriate to this or that party, but whatsoever of sincere 
religion shall be found common to them all. Such will value 
and love his favour and presence, and shall have it ; and he 
will yet have such a people in the world, and, I doubt not, 
more numerous than ever. And as the bitterness of Chris- 
tians one towards another chased away his Spirit, his Spirit 
shall vanquish and drive away all that bitterness, and con- 
sume our other dross. And as the apostasy long ago fore- 



\ 



LIFE OF HOTVE. 



231 



told, and of so long continuance in the Christian church, hath 
been begun and continued by constant war against the Spirit 
of Christ ; the restitution and recovery of the church, and the 
reduction of Christianity to its ancient self, and primitive 
state, will be by the victory of the Spirit of Christ over that 
so contrary spirit. Then shall all the enmity, pride, wrath- 
fulness, and cruelty, which have rent the church of Christ, 
and made it so little itself, be melted down ; and with all 
their great impurities besides, earthliness, carnality, love of 
this present world, and prevalence of sensual lusts, be purged 
more generally away : and his repairing work be done in a 
way grievous to no one, whereby those that are most abso- 
lutely conquered will be most highly pleased : not by might 
or by power, but by the Spirit of the Lord. 

"In the meantime let us draw nigh to God, and he will 
draw nigh to us. Let us more study the exercising ourselves 
to o'odliness. and take heed of turning the religion of our 
closets into spiritless, uncomfortable formalities. ' Their 
hearts shall live that seek God.' 

" To that blessed, and faithful, and covenant-keeping God 
I commit you : and ' to the word of his grace, which is able 
to build you up further, and give you an inheritance among 
them that are sanctified.' 

"And as I hope I shall without ceasing remember you in 
mine, so I hope you will remember too in your prayers, 
"Your sincerely affectionate, 

" Though too unprofitable. 

" Servant in Christ. 

" "John Howe." 

In company with Lord Wharton, Howe visited 
some of the most celebrated cities in Europe, and 
enjoved literary intercourse with learned men of all 
parties. 

As he received no tidings from England which 



232 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



could induce him to return home, he settled, in 
1686, (after haying spent a year in travel,) at 
Utrecht. Here he took a large house for the recep- 
tion of English lodgers ; probably at the suggestion 
of some of his more wealthy fellow-exiles, who felt 
the desirableness of such an establishment. Amongst 
other inmates he had the Earl and Countess of 
Sutherland, several English gentlemen, and his 
nephews, George and J ohn Hughes. 

Nor was he entirely without opportunity of exer- 
cising his ministry. Sad, indeed, would have been 
his circumstances had he been compelled utterly to 
abandon duties to which he had dedicated his life, 
and which to him formed the sweetest solace of 
adversity. 

While at Utrecht, he regularly preached in turn 
at the English church, with the Rev. Messrs. 
Matthew Mead, Woodcock, and Cross ; men who, 
like himself, had preferred exile in Holland to per- 
secution at home. These worthy men frequently 
spent together da}^s of prayer for their unhappy 
and degraded country. On the evening of every 
Lord's day, Howe performed Divine service in his 
own household. 

Nor were these the only modes in which he 
endeavoured to be useful during his sojourn in 
Holland. As there were several English students 
at the University, preparing for the ministry, he 
kindly consented to hear their " orations and dis- 
putations," at his own house ; and gave them 
instruction and advice as to the best method of 
pursuing their studies. Such a man as Howe could 



\ 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



233 



not be idle. He was one who, wherever he was, 
would either find opportunities of doing good, or 
make them. 

Several Englishmen of rank and fortune were 
staying in Holland during Howe's residence there ; 
like himself, expatriated by persecution. Amongst 
them were Sir John Thompson,* Sir John Guise, 
Sir Patience Ward, and Thomas Papillon, Esq.,f 
with whom he formed a close intimacy. The pro- 
fessors of the University uniformly treated him with 
the utmost respect, and afforded him the advantages 
of learned society. 

While at Utrecht, the following curious corre- 
spondence passed between Howe and Lady Rachel 
Russell. The letters are extracted from the collec- 
tion published some years ago from the Devonshire 
MSS., by the editor of Madame du Deffand's Letters. 

Howe's letter contains nothing less than certain 
overtures of " an advantageous marriage," between 

Frances, the widow of Lloyd, Esq., a lady of 

great fortune and accomplishments, and Mr. (after- 
wards Lord) Edward Russell, brother-in-law to Lady 
Rachel Russell. He was long member for the county 

* Afterwards Lord Haversham. He is often mentioned cursorily by 
Burnet. He was of a republican family. This recommended him to the 
Earl of Anglesey, a patron of the Dissenters. He married Frances, the 
daughter of that earl, who strongly recommended him to the good graces of 
Charles II. The King made him a baronet. During the reign of James II. 
he joined the party of the Prince of Orange, who made him a baron and 
lord of the admiralty. "Afterwards," says Walpole, "he seems entirely 
to have abandoned his first principles, and to have given himself up to the 
high church party, though he continued to go sometimes to meetings." 

t First Commissioner of the Victualling Office in the reign of William III 
De Foe gives him a very high character. 



234 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



of Bedford. The proposed marriage afterwards took 
place, " with much happiness to both parties." 

This, as we shall afterwards see, was not the only 
occasion on which Howe's good offices were employed 
in negotiating marriages between persons of distinc- 
tion ; and his prudence and integrity well qualified 
him for so delicate a business. 

THE REV. JOHN HOWE TO LADY RUSSELL. 

" Utrecht, February 1686-7. 
" I doubt not, Madam, but you believe me sincerely willing 
to serve any relative of your ladyship, or of the honourable 
family I am about to mention ; and shall therefore forbear 
everything of apology for the trouble I now give you. If 
your ladyship think it not unfit to give me a character of my 
Lord of Bedford's (now) eldest son, and it prove as good, on 
his part, (which what I already know leaves me little place to 
doubt of,) as I am sure it will be true on your ladyship's, sup- 
posing he have not determined still to live single, or be not 
otherwise pre-engaged, I might perhaps (though I can only 
promise faithful endeavours) improve it to his advantage with 
an English lady, my present neighbour, so very deserving in 
respect of all personal qualifications, family, and fortune, as 
to be capable of contributing what can be expected from such 
a relation, to the making a person, suitable to her, very 
happy in it. It would be requisite, to qualify me for attempt- 
ing anything herein, that I be able to give an account, 
besides his strict sobriety, of his seriousness in religion, with- 
out being addicted (to the degree of bigotry) unto any the 
distinguishing modes of it used among sober-minded Protes- 
tants ; and (which is a great essential) of that goodness of 
temper, wherein is a composition of prudence and kindness, 
that shall neither incline to a fond levity nor too morose 
sourness ; together with his certain estate, without reference 
to such possibilities, as, which (rod forbid they should, signify 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



235 



anything, either in reality or expectation. I doubt not I 
might receive very liberal encomiums of this noble person 
from other hands ; but if I should ever mention such a thing 
to the lady herself, nothing could give me so great a confi- 
dence therein as I should receive from your ladyship's testi- 
mony ; nor can anything (upon what I know of her just and 
high honour for your ladyship) signify so much with her. I 
apprehend it will be the less inconvenient for your ladyship 
to give your sense upon this subject, that there will be no 
need, in doing so, again to mention his name, and that mere 
silence will serve as to any part (if there should be any) 
wherein your ladyship cannot allow yourself to be positive ; 
and it would be the more convenient, for that I doubt not 
your ladyship can say all that will be for the present requi- 
site, without making any inquiries from a third person, 
which, as yet, would not be seasonable. 

"Your ladyship so well understands how little reason 
there is the great and wise Lord and Ruler of all things 
should make the state of things perfect and unexceptionable, 
in a world not intended for perpetuity, and designed to be a 
place of discipline for the exercise and improvement of virtue 
and religion, not of full rewards for them ; and you are so 
fully persuaded that the rewards of the other state will be 
sufficiently ample for all the sufferings and sorrows, where- 
with sincerity is often attended in this, that I need wish no 
more for your ladyship's present continual support and con- 
solation, than that you may have the constant living sense of 
what you already know ; which I cease not to pray for to 
your ladyship, together with the fulness of all blessings 
upon the most hopeful plants under your care ; as greatly 
becometh, 

" Most honoured Madam, 

" Your Ladyship's most obliged, 

" And most faithfully devoted 
" Humble Servant, 

"John Howe." 



236 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



The following is Lady Russell's reply : — 

FHOM LADY UUSSELL TO REV. JOHN HOWE. 

" February, 1687. 

" Let me assure Mr. Howe I do not write this with indif- 
ference, upon several accounts. I receive your letter as a 
kind testimony of your remembrance, which I value very 
much ; and yet I feel myself more engaged by your zeal to 
do good to that family I have known so true content in, and 
am entirely dedicated to. It is honourable and worthy in 
the whole, and every branch of it have their peculiar virtues ; 
but every highest respect (meaning that sex we are to speak 
of) is placed, where my best and blessed friend placed his. 
This may possibly be a bar to your concluding, that what I 
may say should be received as impartially given ; though yet 
I think it may, since I am sincerest in searching, where I 
desire to find the fewest faults. Some in this imperfect state 
must be found in man ; but I do sincerely believe the person 
is highly qualified to make one happy in the nearest relation 
we can have upon earth. I would, for no advantage to 
myself, or friend, deceive any ; especially by false acts, be an 
instrument to lead one, eminently confident, into error, and 
so desperate a one, out of which there is no recovery. But 
where there is great honour, truth, courage, and great good- 
nature, what supposition can there be that, when joined with 
a prudent and virtuous woman, they should not feel the 
felicity of the happiest state of life ? Self-interest does not 
bribe me to say this, since now the drudgery of living only 
remains to me ; but in my pleasant days, so near a relation, 
so very deserving, must have been gladly received, and even 
now must be owned a kind providence; and would un- 
doubtedly not fail to be so by the obliged family, which, I can 
pronounce, is the easiest to converse or live with, that ever I 
have known or could observe. There is one particular that, 
without making inquiries from a third person, (which you 



LIFE OP HOWE. 



237 



are of opinion would not yet be seasonable,) I can give no 
report of, that is, their certain estate. I am entirely ignorant 
in that point ; but do imagine Mr. Ashurst not quite so. I 
am very nice of inquiring into those particulars, of all others ; 
but I know they have an equal and just father, and what is 
once promised will be punctually performed. Proceedings of 
this nature can move so slow at such a distance, that more 
than I have said I do not take to be necessary, in order to 
your friendly attempting to facilitate a happy union. When 
the lady is again in England, I shall be early in paying my 
respects, and with great integrity acquitting myself of any 
part in this aifair that can fall upon me ; or, if it sinks into 
nothing, ever retain the sense of your good- will and forward- 
ness to dispose the lady towards it ; and shall as little fail to 
acquaint my Lord Bedford, whose mind is ever prepared to 
all real acknowledgments where he feels himself obliged." 

Among the distinguished men who honoured 
Howe by their visits while lie was in Holland, was 
Gilbert Burnet (afterwards Bishop of Sarum), who, 
when at Utrecht, scrupled not to preach at the 
English Church, and with much liberality openly 
" advocated occasional communion with those of 
different sentiments." Calamy relates, that in a 
conversation with Howe at this period, Burnet ex- 
pressed his conviction, " that nonconformity could 
not last long ; that, after Baxter, Bates, and he 
(Howe) were o once laid in their graves, it would die 
of itself." Howe replied, that in his opinion, its 
existence depended much more on principles than on 
persons ; that the surest as well as speediest method 
of destroying nonconformity would be to abate the 
rigour of the terms of conformity ; and that unless 
this were done, in other words, so long as ground 




238 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



was left for conscientious nonconformity, present 
differences must necessarily be perpetuated. The 
men might die, but the principles would live. 

While in Holland, Howe was honoured by several 
interviews with William, Prince of Orange, afterward 
King of England. The prince discoursed with him, 
says Calamy, u with great freedom, and ever after 
maintained a great respect for him.' ? * 

In 1687, James II., suddenly abandoning every 
principle of his past policy, published his 64 Declara- 
tion for liberty of conscience ; " and Howe's con- 
gregation, who were most anxious that he should 
resume his labours amongst them, wrote to remind 
him that he had promised to do so as soon as 
circumstances would permit him. With their request 
he immediately complied. 

Though the nonconformists, under the shadow of 
this indulgence, were now permitted to adopt their 
own modes of worship without molestation, no one 
acquainted with the character of the bigoted James, 
can be in any doubt as to the motives which 
prompted this unexpected lenity. How, indeed, 
could it be expected that one, whose whole life 
had been marked by the blindest bigotry, and whose 
darling project (pursued at all hazards) was the resto- 
ration of Popery, should be favourably disposed 
towards the principles of toleration ? 

* " I well remember, " says Calamy, "that he himself once informed me 
of some very private conversation he had with that prince (then king) not 
long before his death. Among other things, the king asked him a great 
many questions about his ' old master, Oliver, ' as he called him, and 
seemed not a little pleased with the answers that were returned to some of 
his questions." 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



239 



The indulgence, in truth, was nothing but an 
expedient for sheltering the Papists from persecu- 
tion, and was designed to prepare the way for an 
entire repeal of the penal laws with respect to that 
obnoxious party : in other words, the king suddenly 
affected a tolerating spirit merely in order that he 
might afterwards more effectually serve the designs 
of persecution. Sooner than the Papists should be 
persecuted, he was willing that the nonconformists 
should for a while go free ; and in order to secure 
his own party from oppression, he was ready to 
extend protection to others. Thus in the mysterious 
counsels of that Providence, which, when it would 
give rest to the church of Christ, can compel even 
her worst enemies to do her service, bigotry, in this 
instance, toiled in the work of toleration, and the 
u same fountain," for once, u sent forth waters both 
bitter and sweet." But the nonconformists were, 
in fact, no more indebted for this indulgence to the 
superstitious James, than their ancestors were, for 
the blessings of the Reformation, to the licentious 
Henry. Both monarchs were the reluctant instru- 
ments of good. 

The sagacious Prince of Orange showed that he 
fully saw through the motives of J ames, in the inter- 
view with which Howe was favoured previous to his 
departure from Utrecht. On that occasion the prince 
told him that his brethren ought to be very sparing 
of their " congratulatory addresses ;" that it was their 
duty to offer the most strenuous resistance to the 
designs of the court as to the abolition of the penal 
laws and tests ; and implored him to urge on his 



240 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



party the necessity of circumspection. Though some 
few of the nonconformists, deceived by the king's 
seeming lenity, indulged in a strain of gratitude 
which would have soon abated, had they known 
how very small their obligations were ; and though 
some of the high church faction (secretly favourable 
to the king's designs) sent up addresses, conceived 
in a style of the most fulsome flattery ; it is but 
justice to say, that the bulk of both the great 
Protestant parties saw through the disguise of royal 
hypocrisy, and reasonably distrusted a revolution of 
sentiments and policy so suspiciously sudden. 

Nothing can be more noble than the conduct of 
the nonconformists on more than one occasion in 
which the country has been menaced with danger 
from the designs of Popery.* With a magnanimity 
which entitles them to the veneration of posterity, 
they have repeatedly shown their willingness to 
remain under an undeserved stigma rather than 
allow a dangerous freedom to the enemies of their 
country, and to secure the liberty of the nation at 
the expense of their own."j" In the present instance, 
under the guidance of Howe, and some few others 
of equal influence and reputation, they maintained 
their ancient character for integrity. In our day, 
indeed, a readiness in one party of religionists to 
sacrifice their own interests, in order to perpetuate 
penal laws against another, would be justly thought 

* As on this, and the yet more memorable occasion of 1673, when the 
"Test Act" was passed. 

f See this strongly stated in Howe's " Case of the Protestant Dissenters," 
on a subsequent page. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



241 



a most gratuitous display of bigotry. But at that 
crisis, when the dangers from Popery were so 
obvious and so imminent ; when the throne was 
filled by a bigot, resolutely bent on restoring that- 
party to power, the conduct of the nonconformists 
deserves the praise of the purest patriotism. 

When the court, more fully disclosing its designs, 
endeavoured to get the nonconformists to sanction 
the " dispensing power" as applied to the Papists, 
the bulk of them (amongst whom Howe was fore- 
most) sturdily refused. The spirit with which they 
were animated, was strikingly exemplified at a 
meeting, (of which Calamy has preserved an ac- 
count,) held at Howe's own house. This meeting, 
it appears, was called for the purpose of u consider- 
ing the advisableness of drawing up a writing to 
signify their concurrence with the king, as to the 
ends of his declaration." While discussing this 
question, "two persons came from court, and told 
them that the king was waiting in his closet, and 
would not stir from thence till he had received an 
account of their proceedings." On this, one of the 
party intimated, " that he thought it but reasonable 
that they should comply with his majesty's request ; " 
to which another instantly replied, that " if the king 
expected that they should join in approving such a 
conduct as would give liberty to the Papists, he for 
one would rather that his majesty should resume 
their own." Howe, in summing up, told the per- 
sons who had come from court, that these were 
the sentiments of the meeting generally, and in- 
structed them to convey the same to h s majesty. 

M 



242 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



Calamy confesses, that some few of the ministers, 
who w r ere afterwards " closeted with the king," and 
" who received some particular favours, might be 
drawn too far into the snare but he adds, " that 
they were very few ; that as soon as their conduct 
became known, their influence with their party was 
visibly lessened ; that the far greater" number stood 
out; and that Howe, particularly, when the king 
discoursed with him in private, told his majesty 
* that he was a minister of the gospel ; that it was 
his province to preach, and endeavour to do good to 
the souls of men ; but as for meddling with state 
affairs, he was neither inclined nor called to it, and 
must beg to be excused.' " 

About this time a circumstance occurred which 
showed the purity and disinterestedness which 
habitually actuated Howe's public conduct. The 
king, in pursuance of his designs, insisted that the 
clergy should read his Declaration of Indulgence, in 
their respective churches, throughout the kingdom. 
Some of the bishops, consulting together, came to 
the conclusion, that to comply with this demand, 
wxvuld be to sanction the " dispensing power." They 
therefore requested his majesty to excuse them. The 
petition, in which they preferred this request, was 
declared a libel ; and, for presenting it, its authors 
were committed to the Tower. 

At this important crisis, Howe received an invita- 
tion from Dr. Sherlock, then Master of the Temple, 
to dine with him. Accepting the invitation, Howe 
found two or three other clergymen assembled to 
meet him. After dinner, the conversation naturally 



LIFE OF HOWE. 243 

turned on the imminent danger with which the 
Church was threatened. In the midst of it, the 
Doctor abruptly asked Howe, " what he thought the 
nonconformists would do, should the preferments of 
the Church become vacant, and a proposal be made 
that those vacancies be filled up out of the ranks of 
the seceders ?" Howe was so taken by surprise, 
that at first he knew not what to answer. The 
Doctor then proceeded to give more full expression 
to his apprehensions. He declared, u that the 
bishops would as certainly be cast, as they were at 
that time imprisoned in the Tower : that the rest of 
the clergy who had so generally refused reading the 
king's declaration, would be treated in the same 
manner : that it was not to be imagined that their 
places should be suffered to remain vacant : that 
no way could be thought of for filling them up, 
except from among the nonconformists: and who 
knows," he concluded, " but Mr. Howe may be 
offered the place of Master of the Temple ? w He 
added, "that he was of course anxious to know how 
the nonconformists would act under such circum- 
stances ; and that he believed none could satisfy 
him on that point better than his present visitor." 
Thus appealed to, Howe replied, that the "issue of 
the present perplexed state of affairs was altogether 
uncertain ; that it was improbable that Dr. Sherlock's 
fears should ever be realized ; that if they should, he 
could not venture to answer for the conduct of the 
nonconformists as a body, as they were split into 
different parties, and as those parties were actuated 
by different principles ; that he could answer only 

m 2 



244 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



for himself ; that so far as lie was concerned, he did 
not hesitate to say, that should such an improbable 
case occur as that which the Doctor had supposed, 
he should not feel himself warranted in declining 
altogether an opportunity of more public usefulness, 
should it be offered on such terms as he could 
conscientiously accept ; but that as for any emolument 
accruing from such a situation, he should have nothing 
to do with it, except as the channel to convey it to 
the legal proprietor." This reply threw the Doctor 
into ecstasies ; he rose from his seat, and, embracing 
his visitor, told him "how rejoiced he was to find 
him that ingenuous, honest man he had always sup- 
posed him to be." Howe, in relating this curious 
occurrence to a dignitary of the Church, to whom 
Sherlock was well known, particularly mentioned his 
perplexity at being thus abruptly called to give an 
opinion on a case so extraordinary; a case which 
had never even entered his imagination. " Sir," 
replied the gentleman to whom Howe told the story, 
"you must give me leave to say, that if you had 
studied the case for seven years together, you could 
not have said anything which had been more to the 
purpose, or more to Dr. Sherlock's satisfaction." 

The Ee volution, in the following year, happily 
dissipated the terrors which had overhung the nation 
during the reign of the Second James, and termi- 
nated a dynasty which had been equally the curse 
and the disgrace of the nation. 

Shortly after the Prince of Orange had arrived at 
St. James's palace, a deputation of the noncon- 
formist ministers waited on him. Being introduced 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



245 



by the Lords Devonshire, Wharton, and Wiltshire, 
Howe delivered an address, in the name of his 
brethren, the purport of which was as follows : — 

" That they professed their grateful sense of his highness's 
hazardous and heroical expedition, which the favour of 
Heaven had made so surprisingly prosperous. 

" That they esteemed it a common felicity, that the worthy 
patriots of the nobility and gentry of this kingdom had 
unanimously concurred unto his highness's design, by whose 
most prudent advice the administration of public affairs was 
devolved in this difficult conjuncture, into hands which the 
nation and the world knew to be apt for the greatest under- 
takings, and so suitable to the present exigence of our case. 

" That they promised the utmost endeavours which in their 
stations they were capable of affording, for promoting the 
excellent and most desirable ends for which his highness had 
declared. 

" That they added their continual and fervent prayers to 
the Almighty for the preservation of his highness's person, 
and the success of his future endeavours for the defence and 
propagation of the Protestant interest throughout the 
Christian world. 

"That they should all most willingly have chosen that 
for the season of paying this duty to his highness when the 
Lord Bishop and the clergy of London attended his highness 
for the same purpose, (which some of them did, and which 
his lordship was pleased condescendingly to make mention of 
to his highness,) had their notice of that intended application 
been so early as to make their more general attendance pos- 
sible to them at that time. 

" And that, therefore, though they did now appear in a 
distinct company, they did it not on a distinct account, but 
on that only which was common to them and to all Pro- 
testants. 

" That there were some of emiuent note, whom age or 



246 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



present infirmities hindered from coming with them ; yet 
they concurred in the same grateful sense of our common 
deliverance." 

The prince, in answer, assured them, " that he 
came on purpose to defend the Protestant religion, 
and that it was his own religion, in which he was 
born and bred ; the religion of his country and of 
his ancestors : and that he was resolved, by the 
grace of God, always to adhere to it, and to do his 
utmost endeavours for the defence of it, and the 
promoting a firm union among Protestants." 

In this year (1688) Howe published nothing 
except three discourses — one, " Directing what we 
are to do, after a strict inquiry whether or no we 
truly love Grod ; " * and two, preached at Thurlow, 
in Suffolk, u On yielding ourselves to God." f 

In 1689, he addressed the following letter in 
behalf of the French Protestants, to a certain per- 
sonage, " whom," Calamy says, " he must leave the 
reader to guess at adding, that " he himself could 
do no more." Happily, the mystery is of little 
consequence. 

" Sir, 

" But that I am learning as much as I can to 
count nothing strange among the occurrences of the present 
time, I should be greatly surprised to find that divers French 
Protestant ministers, fled hither for their consciences and 
religion, who have latitude enough to conform to the rites 
of the Church of England, do accuse others of their brethren, 
who are fled hither on the same account, but have not that 



* On Jolin v. 42. 



f On Bom. vi. 13. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



247 



latitude, as schismatics, only for practising according to the 
principles and usages of their own church, which at home 
were common to them both ; and, as schismatics, judge them 
unworthy of any relief here. Their common enemy never 
yet passed so severe a judgment on any of them, that they 
should be famished. This is put into the hands of the ap- 
pellants from this sentence, unto your more equal judgment. 
And it needs do no more than thus briefly to represent their 
case, and me, 

" Most honoured Sir, 

"Your most obliged, 

" And most humble Servant, 

" John Howe. 

" Walbrook, April 5, 1689." 

At the commencement of 1689, Parliament was 
engaged in discussing bills for " comprehension" 
and " indulgence." Not a few of the hi^h-church 
party, in contravention of the solemn pledges which 
had been given to the nonconformists, were still 
anxious for the perpetuation of persecution under a 
somewhat milder form. 

At this critical period, Howe drew up the follow- 
ing paper, in which the claims of his party to 
relief are argued in a most cogent and eloquent 
manner : — 

The Case of the Protestant Dissenters Represented and 
Argued. 

" They are under one common obligation with the rest of 
mankind, by the universal law of nature, to worship God in 
assemblies. 

" Men of all sorts of religions, that have ever obtained in 
the world, Jews, Pagans, Mahometans, Christians, have in 
their practice acknowledged this obligation. Nor can it be 



248 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



understood how such, a practice should be so universal, other- 
wise than from the dictate and impression of the universal 
law, 

" Whereas the religion professed in England is that of 
reformed Christianity, some things are annexed to the allowed 
public worship, which are acknowledged to be no parts thereof, 
nor in themselves necessary, but which the Dissenters judge 
to be in some part sinful. 

" They cannot, therefore, with good conscience towards God, 
attend wholly and solely upon the public worship which the 
laws do appoint. 

" The same laws do strictly forbid their assembling to 
worship God otherwise. 

" Which is in effect the same thing as if they who made, 
or shall continue such laws, should plainly say, e If you will 
not consent with us in our superadded rites and modes 
against your consciences, you shall not worship Grod ; or if 
you will not accept of our additions to the Christian religion, 
you shall not be Christians and manifestly tends to reduce 
to paganism a great part of a Christian nation. 

" They have been wont, therefore, to meet, however, in 
distinct assemblies, and to worship God in a way which their 
consciences could approve ; and have many years continued 
so to do, otherwise than as they have been hindered by 
violence. 

"It is therefore, upon the whole, fit to inquire, 

" Qu. 1. Whether they are to be blamed for their holding 
distinct meetings for the worship of God ? 

" For answer to this, it cannot be expected that all the 
controversies should be here determined, which have been 
agitated about the lawfulness of each of those things which 
have been added to the Christian religion and worship by 
the present constitution of the Church of England. 

" But supposing there were none of them simply unlawful, 
while yet the misinformed minds of the Dissenters could not 
judge them lawful, though they have made it much their 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



249 



business to inquire and search ; being urged also by severe 
sufferings, which through a long tract of time they have 
undergone, not to refuse any means that might tend to their 
satisfaction ; they could have nothing else left them to do 
than to meet and worship distinctly as they have. 

" For they could not but esteem the obligation of the uni- 
versal, natural, Divine law, by which they were bound 
solemnly to worship God, less questionable than that of a law 
which was only positive, topical, and human, requiring such 
and such additaments to their worship, and prohibiting their 
worship without them. 

" The Church of England, (as that part affects to be 
called,) distinguished from the rest by those additionals to 
Christian religion, (pretended to be indifferent, and so con- 
fessed unnecessary,) hath not only sought to engross to itself 
the ordinances of Divine worship, but all civil power. So 
that the privileges that belong either to Christian or human 
society are enclosed, and made peculiar to such as are distin- 
guished by things that in themselves can signify nothing 
to the making of persons either better Christians, or better 
men. 

" Qu. 2. Whether the laws enjoining such additions to our 
religion as the exclusive terms of Christian worship and com- 
munion, ought to have been made, when it is acknowledged 
on all hands, the things to be added were before not neces- 
sary ; and when it is known a great number judge them 
sinful, and must thereby be restrained from worshipping the 
true and living God ? 

"Am. The question, to any of common sense, answers 
itself. For it is not put concerning such as dissent from any 
part of the substance of worship which Grod hath commanded, 
but concerning such additions as he never commanded. And 
there are sufficient tests to distinguish such Dissenters from 
those that deny any substantial part of religion, or assert 
anything contrary thereto. Wherefore, to forbid such to 
worship that God that made them, because they cannot receive 

M 3 



250 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



your devised additions, is to exclude that which, is necessary, 
for the mere want of that which is unnecessary. 

"And where is that man that will adventure to stand 
forth, and avow the hindering of such persons from paying 
their homage to the God that made them, if we thus expos- 
tulate the matter on God's behalf and their own? Will 
you cut off from God his right in the creatures he hath 
made? Will you cut off from them the means of their 
salvation upon these terms ? What reply can the matter 
admit ? 

"It is commonly alleged that great deference is to he 
paid to the laws, and that we ought to have forborne our 
assemblies, till the public authority recalled the laws against 
them ; and we will say the same thing, when it is well 
proved, that they who made such laws, made the world too. 

" And by whose authority were such laws made ? Is there 
any that is not from God ? and hath God given any man 
authority to make laws against himself, and to deprive him 
of his just rights from his own creatures ? 

" Nor, if the matter be well searched into, could there be 
so much as a pretence of authority derived for such purposes 
from the people, whom every one now acknowledges the 
first receptacle of derived governing power. God can, it is 
true, lay indisputable obligations, by his known laws, upon 
every conscience of man, about religion or anything else. 
And such as represent any people, can, according to the con- 
stitution of the government, make laws for them, about the 
things they intrust them with : but if the people of England 
be asked, man hy man, will they say they did intrust to their 
representatives their religion and their consciences, to do 
with them what the}^ please ? When it is your own turn to 
be represented by others, is this part of the trust you commit? 
What Dr. Sherlock worthily says concerning a bishop, he 
might (and particularly after doth) say concerning every 
other man, 'He can be no more represented in a council, 
than at the day of judgment : every man's soul and con- 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



251 



science must be in his own keeping, and can be represented 
by no man.'* 

" It ought to be considered that Christianity, wherein it 
superadds to the law of nature, is all matter of revelation. 
And it is well known, that even among pagans, in the settling 
rites and institutes of religion, f revelation was pretended at 
least, upon an implied principle, that in such matters human 
power could not oblige the people's consciences. 

" We must be excused, therefore, if we have in our 
practice expressed less reverence for laws made by no 
authority received either from God or man. 

"We are therefore injuriously reflected on, when it is 
imputed to us that we have, by the use of our liberty, 
acknowledged an illegal dispensing power. We have done 
no other thing herein, than we did when no dispensation was 
given or pretended, in conscience of duty to Him that gave 
us our breath ; nor did therefore practise otherwise, because 
we thought those laws dispensed with, but because we thought 
them not laws. Whereupon little need remains of inquiring 
further. 

" Qu. 3. Whether such laws should be continued? Against 
which, besides what may be collected from that which hath 
been said, it is to be considered, that what is most principally 
grievous to us, was enacted by that parliament, that, as we 
have too much reason to believe, suffered itself to be dealt 
with to enslave the nation, in other respects as well as this ; 
and which (to his immortal honour) the noble Earl of Danby 
procured to be dissolved, as the first step towards our national 
deliverance. 

" And let the tenor be considered of that horrid law, by 
which our Magna Charta was torn in pieces ; the worst and 
most infamous of mankind, at our own expense, hired to 
accuse us ; multitudes of perjuries committed, convictions 

* "Vindication of some Protestant Principles," etc. p. 52. 
f "As by Numa, from his Egeria. And their priests, to whom the 
regulation of such matters was left, were generally believed to be inspired." 



252 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



made without a jury, and without any hearing of the persons 
accused; penalties inflicted, goods rifled, estates seized and 
embezzled, houses broken up, families disturbed, often at 
unseasonable hours of the night, without any cause, or 
shadow of a cause, if only a malicious villain would pretend 
to suspect a meeting there ! No law in any other case 
like this ! As if to worship God without those additions, 
which were confessed unnecessary, were a greater crime than 
theft, felony, murder, or treason ! Is it for our reputa- 
tion to posterity, that the memory of such law should be 
continued ? 

"And are we not yet awakened, and our eyes opened 
enough to see, that the making and execution of the laws, by 
which we have suffered so deeply for many by-past years, was 
only that Protestants might destroy Protestants, and the 
easier work be made for the introduction of Popery, that was 
to destroy the residue ? 

"Nor can any malice deny, or ignorance of observing 
Englishmen overlook, this plain matter of fact. After the 
dissolution of that before-mentioned parliament, Dissenters 
were much caressed, and endeavoured to be drawn into a 
subserviency to the court designs, especially in the election of 
after-parliaments. Notwithstanding which, they everywhere 
so entirely and unanimously fell in with the sober part of the 
nation, in the choice of such persons for the three parlia- 
ments that next succeeded, (two held at Westminster, and 
that at Oxford,) as it was known would, and who did, most 
generously assert the liberties of the nation, and the Protest- 
ant religion. Which alone (and not our mere dissent from 
the Church of England in matters of religion, wherein 
Charles II. was sufficiently known to be a prince of great 
indifferency) drew upon us, soon after the dissolution of the 
last of those parliaments, that dreadful storm of persecution, 
that destroyed not a small number of lives in gaols, and 
ruined multitudes of families. 

" Let English freemen remember, what they cannot but 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



253 



know, that it was for our firm adherence to the civil interests 
of the nation, (not for our different modes of religion from the 
legal way, though the laws gave that advantage against us, 
which they did not against others,) that we endured the 
calamities of so many years. 

"When by the late king some relaxation was given us, 
what arts and insinuations have been used with us, to draw 
us into a concurrence to designs tending to the prejudice of 
the nation ! And with how little effect upon the generality 
of us, it must be* great ignorance not to know, and great 
injustice to deny. 

" But He that knoweth all things, knoweth that though, 
in such circumstances, there was no opportunity for our 
receiving public and authorized promises, when we were all 
under the eye of watchful jealousy ; yet as great assurances 
as were possible were given us, by some that we hope will 
now remember it, of a future established security from our 
former pressures. We were told over and over, when the 
excellent Heer Fagel's letter came to be privately communi- 
cated from hand to hand, how easily better things would be 
had for us, than that encouraged Papists to expect, if ever 
that happy change should be brought about, which none 
have now beheld with greater joy than we. 

" We are loth to injure those who have made us hope for 
better, by admitting a suspicion that we shall now be dis- 
appointed and deceived, (as we have formerly been, and we 
know by whom,) or that we shall suffer from them a religious 
slavery, for whose sakes we have suffered so grievous things, 
rather than do the least thing that might tend to the bring- 
ing upon them a civil slavery. 

" We cannot but expect from Englishmen that they be just 
and true. We hope not to be the only instances whereby the 
Anglica fides and the Tunica shall be thought all one. 

"But if we, who have constantly desired, and, as we have 
had opportunity, endeavoured the saving of the nation, must 
however be ruined, not to greaten (one hair) the wealth and 



254 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



dignity of it, but only to gratify the humour of them who 
would yet destroy it ; we, who are competently inured to 
sufferings, shall, through Grod's mercy, be again enabled to 
endure : but He that sits in the heavens will in his own time 
judge our cause, and we will wait his pleasure ; and, we hope, 
suffer all that can be inflicted, rather than betray the cause of 
reformed Christianity in the world. 

"But our affairs are in the hands of men of worth and 
honour, who apprehend how little grateful a name they 
should leave to posterity, or obtain now with good men of 
any persuasion, if, under a pretence of kindness to us, they 
should now repeat the arts of ill men, in an ill time. Great 
minds will think it beneath them to sport themselves with 
their own cunning, in deceiving other men ; which were 
really in the present case too thin not to be seen through, 
and may be the easy attainment of any man, that hath 
enough of opportunity, and integrity little enough for such 
purposes. And it is as much too gross to endeavour to abuse 
the authority of a nation, by going about to make that stoop 
to so mean a thing, as to make a show of intending what 
they resolve to their utmost shall never be. 

" But some may think, by concessions to us, the Church of 
England will be ruined, and a great advantage given to the 
bringing in of Popery. 

" To which we say, the generality of the Dissenters differ 
from the Church of England, in no substantials of doctrine 
and worship, no, nor of government, provided it be so managed 
as to attain its true acknowledged end : the favouring of us, 
therefore, will as much ruin the Church, as its enlargement 
and additional strength will signify to its ruin. 

" And doth not the world know, that wherein we differ 
from them, we differ from the Papists too ? and that for 
the most part, wherein they differ from us, they seem to agree 
with them ?. 

"We acknowledge their strong, brave, and prosperous 
opposition to Popery : but they have opposed it by the things 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



255 



wHerein they agree with. us. Their differences from us are 
no more a fence against Popery, than an enclosure of straw is 
against a flame of fire. 

"But it is wont to be said, we asrree not among ourselves, 
and know not what we would have. 

" And do all that go under the name of the Church, of 
England agree among themselves ? We can show more con- 
siderable disagreements among them, than any can between 
the most of us and a considerable part of them. They all 
agree, it is true, in conformity ; and we all agree in non- 
conformity. And is not this merely accidental to Chris- 
tianity and Protestantism ? and herein is it not well known 
that the far greater part of reformed Christendom do more 
agree with us ? 

" An arbitrary line of uniformity, in some little accidents, 
severs a small part of the Christian world from all the rest. 
How unreasonably is it expected that therefore all the rest 
must in everything else agree among themselves ! Suppose 
any imaginary line to cut off a little segment from any part 
of the terrestrial globe ; it is as justly expected that all the 
rest should be of one mind. If one part of England be 
tailors, they might as well expect that all the people besides 
should agree to be of one profession. 

'•'Perhaps some imagine it dishonourable to such as have 
gone before them in the same ecclesiastical stations and 
dignities, if now anything should be altered, which their 
judgment did before approve and think fit. 

" But we hope that temptation will not prove invincible, 
namely, of so excessive a modesty as to be afraid of seeming 
wisefj or better natured, or of a more Christian temper, than 
their predecessors. 

"But the most of us do agree not only with one another, 
but. in the great things above mentioned, with the Church of 
England too : and. in short, that the reproach may cease for 
ever with those that count it one, they will find with us, 
when they please to try, a very extensive agreement on the 



256 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



terms of King Charles II/s declaration about ecclesiastical 
affairs, in 1660. 

" Qu. 4. Whether it be reasonable to exclude all, that in 
everything conform not to the Church of England, from any 
part or share of the civil power ? 

" Ans. The difference or nonconformity of many is so 
minute, that it would be as reasonable to exclude all whose 
hair is not of this or that colour. And what if we should 
make a determination, by the decision this way or that of any 
other disputed question, that may be of as small concernment 
to religion ? suppose it be that of eating blood, for the 
decision whereof one way, there is more pretence from God's 
word, than for any point of the disputed conformity : would 
it not be a wise constitution, ' that whosoever thinks it lawful 
to eat black-pudding shall be capable of no office ? ' etc. 

"But we tremble to think of the exclusive sacramental 
test, brought down as low as to the keeper of an ale-house. 
Are all fit to approach the sacred table, whom the fear of ruin 
or hope of gain may bring thither ? We cannot but often 
remember, with horror, what happened three or four years 
ago. A. man that led an ill life, but frequented the church, 
was observed not to come to the sacrament, and pressed by 
the officers to come ; he yet declined, knowing himself unfit : 
at length, being threatened and terrified, he came ; but said 
to some present at the time of the solemn action, that he 
came only to avoid being undone, and took them to witness 
that what he there received, he took only as common bread 
and wine, not daring to receive them as the body and blood 
of Christ. It is amazing, that among Christians, so venerable 
an institution should be prostituted to the serving of so mean 
purposes, and so foreign to its true end ! and that doing it 
after the manner of the Church of England must be the 
qualification ! as if England were another Christendom ; or it 
were a greater thing to conform in every punctilio to the 
rules of this church, than of Christ himself ! 

" But we would fain know whose is that holy table ? is it 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



257 



the table of this or that party, or the Lord's table ? If the 
Lord's, are not persons to be admitted or excluded upon his 
terms ? Never can there be union or peace in the Christian 
world till we take down our arbitrary enclosures, and content 
ourselves with those which our common Lord hath set. If he 
falls under a curse that alters a man's landmark, to alter 
Gfod's is not likely to infer a blessing. 

" The matter is clear as the light of the sun, that as 
many persons of excellent worth, sobriety, and godliness, are 
entirely in the communion of the Church of England, so 
there are too many of a worse character, that are of it too ; 
and divers prudent, pious, and sober-minded persons that are 
not of it. Let common reason be consulted in this case. 
Suppose the tables turned, and that the rule were to be made 
the contrary way, namely, that to do this thing, but not by 
any means after the manner of the Church of England, were 
to be the qualification : and now suppose one of meaner 
endowments, as a man and a Christian, do what is required, 
and not in the way of the Church of England ; and another, 
that is of much better, does the same thing in that way ; 
were it suitable to prudence or justice, that because it is done 
after the way of the Church of England, a fitter man should 
be reckoned unqualified ? and one of less value be taken for 
qualified, because he does it a different way? Then is all 
that solid weight of wisdom, diligence, sobriety, and good- 
ness, to be weighed down by a feather. 

" It must surely be thought the prudence of any govern- 
ment, to comprehend as many useful persons as it can, and 
no more to deprive itself of the service of such, for anything 
less "considerable than those qualifications are by which they 
are useful, than a man would tear off from himself the limbs 
of his body, for a spot on the skin. 

" And really if, in our circumstances, we thus narrow our 
interest, all the rest of the world will say, that they who 
would destroy us do yet find a way to be our instructors, and 
our common enemies do teach us our politics. 



258 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



" The names of Mr. Hales, of Eton College, and of a later 
most renowned bishop of the Church of England, who 
asserted this principle, that ' if things be imposed under the 
notion of indifferent, which many think sinful, and a schism 
follow thereupon, the imposers are the schismatics,' will be 
great in England, as long as their writings shall live, and 
good sense can be understood in them." 

At length, May 24, 1689, the Act of Toleration 
received the royal assent, and diffused content and 
gladness throughout the nation. 

That this event should lead to some violent ebul- 
litions of party spirit, was to be anticipated. There 
were not wanting bigots who grudged their fellow- 
subjects the enjoyment of their new-born liberty; 
and who, after having so long gratified their malig- 
nant passions, were impatient at being compelled to 
restrain them. It was as unwelcome aKS a fast would 
be to a man who had been accustomed to the free 
indulgence of appetite.* 

Neither was it to be wondered at, if there were 
some amongst the nonconformists, who, in the first 
flush of their triumph, indulged in an unwise and 
unseemly spirit of jubilation. It is superfluous to 
remark that Howe was not of the number: the 
novel circumstances in which he was now placed, 
only served to exhibit his excellence under another 
and most pleasing aspect. He had borne persecu- 
tion with fortitude ; he now enjoyed victory with 

* Dr. South owned, that "he did not like it." Still stronger expressions 
were used at a subsequent period, by the celebrated Sacheverell and his 
party. One of the articles of impeachment against him was, "that he had 
suggested and maintained, that the toleration granted by law was unreason- 
able, and the allowance of it unwarrantable. " 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



259 



moderation. The triumph of his principles and his 
party could not tempt his noble spirit to any dis- 
play of mean and malignant exultation. On the 
contrary, he exerted himself to the utmost to heal 
the wounds which had festered so long, and to pre- 
vent the perpetuation of useless animosity. Of this, 
the following paper, which will never be perused 
by any candid reader without the warmest admira- 
tion, affords irrefragable evidence. 

" HUMBLE REQUESTS BOTH TO CONFORMISTS AND DISSENTERS, 
TOUCHING THEIR TEMPER AND BEHAVIOUR TOWARD EACH 
OTHER, UPON THE LATELY PASSED INDULGENCE. 

" 1. That we do not over-magnify our differences, or count 
them greater than they really are. I speak now of the 
proper differences which the rule itself makes, to which the 
one sort conforms } and the other conforms not. Remember 
that there are differences on both parts, among themselves, 
incomparably greater than these, by which the one sort 
differs from the other. There are differences in doctrinal 
sentiments that' are much greater. How inconceivably 
greater is the difference between good men and bad ! between 
being a lover of the blessed God, the Lord of heaven and 
earth, and an enemy ! a real subject of Christ, and of the 
devil ! Have we not reason to apprehend there are of both 
these on each side ? Let us take heed of having our minds 
tinctured with a wrong notion of this matter, as if this 
Indulgence divided England into two Christendoms, or dis- 
tinguished rather between Christians and Mahometans, as 
some men's Cyclopic fancies have .an unlucky art to repre- 
sent things ; creating ordinary men and things into monsters 
and prodigious shapes at their own pleasure. It has been a 
usual saying on both sides, that they were (in comparison) 
but little things we differed about, or circumstantial things. 



260 



LIFE OF TTOWE. 



Let us not unsay it, or suffer a habit of mind to slide into us, 
that consists not with it. Though we must not go against a 
judgment of conscience in the least thing, yet let us not con- 
found the true differences of things ; but what are really lesser 
things, let them go for such. 

" 2. Let us hereupon carefully abstain from judging each 
other's state God- ward upon these differences : for hereby we 
shall both contradict our common rule and ourselves. "When 
men make conscience of small and doubtful things on the one 
hand and the other, about which they differ, blessed God ! 
how little conscience is made of the plainest and most im- 
portant rule, not to judge one another for such differences ! 
Rom. xiv. 3, 13. Why, of all the parts of that holy book, is 
this chapter only thought no part of God's word ? or this 
precept, so variously enforced in this chapter, and so awfully 
in a preceding verse, ' But why dost thou judge thy brother ? 
or why dost thou set at nought thy brother ? We shall all 
stand before the judgment seat of Christ. For it is written, 
As I live, saith the Lord, every knee shall bow to me, and 
every tongue shall confess to me ! ' Is it a light matter to 
usurp the throne of Christ, the judgment-seat of God ? Yet 
how common has it been to say, such a one conforms, he 
hath nothing of God in him ! such a one conforms not ; it is 
not conscience, but humour ! God forgive both. Had they 
blotted Rom. xiv. out of their Bibles? It is plain by the 
whole series of discourse, that it is the judging of men's 
states, and that by such small matters of difference, that is 
the thing here forbidden. Some few things contained in this 
chapter, as, i to receive one another,' (as Christians, or such 
whom God receives,) notwithstanding remaining doubts about 
small matters, and not determining such doubted things in 
bar to the doubter ; and not ' to lay stumbling-blocks in each 
other's way/ not to do the doubted thing with a mind still 
unsatisfied, not to censure either him that does or forbears ; 
not admitting a hard thought of him, or less favourable, than 
that what such a one does, ' he does to the Lord, and what 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



261 



the other forbears, lie forbears to the Lord ; ? — these few 
things, I say, put in practice, had taken away all differences 
(that we are now considering), or the inconvenience of them, 
long ago. And we shall still need them as much as ever. 

" 3. Let us not value ourselves upon being of this or that 
side of the severing line. It is Jewish, yea, pharisaical, to be 
conceited, and boast ourselves upon externals, and small mat- 
ters, especially if arbitrarily taken up ; and is itself an argu- 
ment of a light mind, and incomprehensive of true worth. 
Though I cannot sincerely be of this or that way, but I must 
think myself in the right, and others in the wrong that differ 
from me, yet I ought to consider, this is but a small minute 
thing, a point compared with the vast orb of knowables, and 
of things needful, and that ought to be known. Perhaps 
divers that differ from me are men of greater and more 
comprehensive minds, and have been more employed about 
greater matters : and many, in things of more importance, 
have much more of valuable and useful knowledge than I. 
Yea, and since these are not matters of salvation we differ 
about, so that any on either side dare considerately say, He 
cannot be saved that is not in these respects of my mind and 
way ; he may have more of sanctifying savoury knowledge, 
more of solid goodness, more of grace and real sanctity, than 
I ; the course of his thoughts and studies having been by 
converse and other accidents led more off from these things, 
and perhaps by a good principle been more deeply engaged 
about higher matters : for no man's mind is able equally to 
consider all things fit to be considered ; and greater things 
are of themselves more apt to beget holy and good impres- 
sions upon our spirits, than the minuter and more circum- 
stantial things, though relating to religion, can be. 

"4. Let us not despise one another for our differing in 
these lesser matters. This is too common, and most natural 
to that temper that offends against the foregoing caution. 
Little- spirited creatures valuing themselves for small matters, 
must consequently have them in contempt that want what 



262 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



they count their own only excellency. He that hath nothing 
wherein he places worth belonging to him, besides a flaunting 
peruke and a laced suit, must at all adventures think veiy 
meanly of one in a plain garb. Where we are taught not to 
judge, we are forbidden to despise or set at nought one 
another upon these little differences. 

" 5. Nor let us wonder that we differ. Unto this we are 
too apt, that is, to think it strange, (especially upon some 
arguing of the difference,) that such a man should conform, 
or such a one not conform. There is some fault in this, but 
which proceeds from more faulty causes. Pride, too often, and 
an opinion that we understand so well, that a wrong is done 
us if our judgment be not made a standard and measure to 
another man's. - And again, ignorance of human nature, or 
ineonsiderateness rather, how mysterious it is, and how little 
can be known of it ; how secret and latent little springs there 
are that move this engine to our own mind this way or that ; 
and what bars (which perhaps he discerns not himself) may 
obstruct and shut up towards us another man's. Have we 
not frequent instances in other common cases, how difficult 
it is to speak to another man's understanding ? Speech is too 
penurious, not expressive enough. Frequently, between men of 
sense, much more time is taken up in explaining each other's 
notions, than in proving or disproving them. Nature and 
our present state have in some respects left us open to God 
only, and made us inaccessible to one another. Why then 
should it be strange to me, that I cannot convey my thought 
into another's mind ? It is unchristian to censure, as before, 
and say, such a one has not my conscience, therefore he has 
no conscience at all ; and it is also unreasonable and rude 
to sav, such a one sees not with my eyes, therefore he 
is stark blind. Besides, the real obscurity of the matter 
is not enough considered. I am very confident an impartial 
and competent judge, upon the view of books, later and more 
ancient, upon such subjects, would say, there are few metaphy- 
sical questions disputed with more subtlety, than the contro- 
versies about conformity and nonconformity. Blessed be God 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



263 



that things necessary to the salvation of souls, and that are of 
true necessity even to the peace and order of the Christian 
church, are in comparison so very plain. 

" Moreover, there is, besides understanding and judgment, 
and diverse from that heavenly gift which in the Scriptures is 
called grace, such a thing as gust and relish belonging to the 
mind of man, and, I doubt not, to all men, if they observe 
themselves ; and this is as unaccountable and as various as the 
relishes and disgusts of sense. This they only wonder at, that 
either understand not themselves, or will consider nobody but 
themselves. To bring it down to the present case. As to 
those parts of worship which are of most frequent use in our 
assemblies, (whether conforming or nonconforming,) prayer, 
and preaching, and hearing God's word, our differences about 
them cannot but in part arise from the diversity of this prin- 
ciple, both on the one hand and the other. One sort do more 
savour prayer by a foreknown form ; another, that which hath 
more of surprise, by a grateful variety of unexpected ex- 
pressions. And it can neither be universally said, it is a 
better judgment, or more grace, that determines men the one 
way or the other ; but somewhat in the temper of their minds, 
distinct from both, which I know not how better to express, than 
by mental taste, the acts whereof (as the objects are suitable 
or unsuitable) are relishing or disrelishing, liking or disliking : 
and this hath no more of mystery in it, than that there is such a 
thing belonging to our natures as complacency or displacenc}^ 
in reference to the objects of the mind. And this, in the kind 
of it, is as common to men as human nature ; but as much 
diversified in individuals, as men's other inclinations are, that 
are most fixed, and least apt to admit of change. Now, in the 
mentioned case, men cannot be universally determined, either 
way, by their having better judgment ; for no sober man can 
be so little modest as not to acknowledge, that there are some 
of each sentiment that are less judicious than some that are of 
the contrary sentiment in this thing. And to say that to be 
more determined this way or that, is the certain sign or effect 
of a greater measure of grace and sanctity, were a great vio- 



264 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



lation both of modesty and charity. I have not met with any 
that have appeared to live in more entire communion with 
God, in higher admiration of him, in a pleasanter sense of his 
love, or in a more joyful expectation of eternal life, than some 
that have been wont with great delight publicly to worship 
Grod in the use of our Common Prayer ; and others I have 
known as highly excelling in the same respects, that could by 
no means relish it, but have always counted it insipid and 
nauseous. The like may be said of relishing or disrelishing 
sermons preached in a digested set of words, or with a more 
flowing freedom of speech. It were endless and odious to vie 
either better judgments, or more pious inclinations, that should 
universally determine men either the one way or the other in 
these matters. And we are no more to wonder at these pecu- 
liarities in the temper of men's minds, than at their different 
tastes of meats and drinks : much less to fall out with them, 
that their minds and notions are not just formed as ours are : 
for we should remember, they no more differ from us than we 
do from them ; and if we think we have the clearer light, it is 
like they also think they have clearer. And it is in vain to 
say, Who shall be judge ? for every man will at length judge 
of his own notions for himself, and cannot help it : for no 
man's judgment (or relish of things, which influences his 
judgment, though he know it not) is at the command of his 
will ; and much less of another man's. And, therefore, 

" 6. Let us not be offended mutually with one another, for 
our different choice of this or that way, wherein we find most 
of real advantage and edification. Our greatest concern 
in this world, and which is common to us all, is the bettering 
of our spirits, and preparing them for a better world. Let 
no man be displeased, (especially of those who agree in all 
the substantial of the same holy religion,) that another uses 
the same liberty, in choosing the way most conducing in his 
experience to his great end, that he himself also uses, expect- 
ing to do it without another man's offence. 

" 7. But above all, let us, with sincere minds, more earnestly 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



265 



endeavour the promoting the interest of religion itself, of true 
reformed Christianity, than of this or that party. Let us long 
to see the religion of Christians become simple, primitive, 
agreeable to its lovely original state, and again itself: and 
each in our own stations contribute thereto all that we are 
able, labouring that the internal principle of it may live and 
flourish in our own souls, and be to our utmost diffused and 
spread unto other men's. And for its externals, as the ducture 
of our rule will guide us, so gradually bend towards one com- 
mon course, that there may at length cease to be any divided 
parties at all. 

" In the meantime, while there are, let it be remembered 
that the difference lies among Christians and Protestants, not 
between such and pagans. Let us therefore carry it accord- 
ingly towards each other ; and consider our assemblies are all 
Christian and Protestant assemblies, differing in their adminis- 
trations, for the most part, not in the things prayed for or 
deprecated, or taught, but in certain modes of expression ; 
and differing really, and in the substance of things, less by 
mere conformity or nonconformity to the public rule of the 
law, than many of them that are under it do from one another, 
and than divers that are not under it. For instance, go into 
one congregation that is a conforming one, and you have the 
public prayers read in the desk, and afterwards a form of 
prayer perhaps used by the preacher in the pulpit, of his own 
composure, before he begins his sermon. Go into another 
congregation, and prayer is performed without either sort of 
form ; and perhaps the difference in this is not so great. It 
may be the conformist uses no preconceived form of his own, 
and the nonconformist may. Both instruct the people out of 
the same holy book of God's word. But now suppose one of 
the former sort reads the public prayers gravely, with the 
appearance of great reverence, fervency, and pious devotion ; 
and one of the latter sort that uses them not, does, however, 
pray for the same things with judgment and with like 
gravity and affection, and they both instruct their hearers 

N 



266 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



fitly and profitably ; nothing is more evident than that the 
worship in these two assemblies doth much less considerably 
differ to a pious and judicious mind, than if in the latter the 
prayers were also read, but carelessly, sleepily, or scenically, 
flauntingly, and with manifest irreverence, and the sermon 
like the rest ; or than if, in the former, all the performance 
were inept, rude, or very offensively drowsy or sluggish. 

" Now, let us show ourselves men, and manly Christians, 
not swayed by trifles and little things, as children by this or 
that dress or mode, or form of our religion, which may per- 
haps please some the more for its real indecency : but know, 
that if, while we continue picquering about forms, the life be 
lost, and we come to bear the character of that church, 
' Thou hast a name that thou livest, and art dead/ we may, 
ere long, (after all the wonders God hath wrought for us,) 
expect to hear of our candlestick's being removed, and that 
our sun shall go down at noonday. 

" The true serious spirit and power of religion and god- 
liness will act no man against his conscience, or his rule 
understood, but will oblige him in all acts of worship (as 
well as of his whole conversation) to keep close to gospel pre- 
scription, so far as he can discern it. And that, he will find, 
requires that, in subordination to the Divine glory, he 
seriously design the working out the salvation of his own 
soul, and take that course in order thereto, put himself under 
such a ministry, and such a way of using God's ordinances, 
as he finds most profitable and conducing to that great end, 
and that doth his soul most real good. If you are religious, 
or of this or that mode or way of religion, to serve a carnal 
design for }rourself or your party, not to save your soul, you 
commit the most detestable sacrilege, and alienate the most 
sacred thing in the world, religion, from its true end ; which 
will not only lose that end, but infer a heavy vengeance. 
Yea, and it is too possible to transgress dangerously, by pre- 
ferring that which is less, (though never so confidently 
thought to be Divine,) before that which is greater, or 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



267 



separately from its true end. You greatly prevaricate, if 
you are more zealously intent to promote independency 
than Christianity, presbytery than Christianity, prelacy than 
Christianity, as any of these are the interest of a party, and 
not considered in subserviency to the Christian interest, nor 
designed for promoting the edification and salvation of your 
own soul. But that being your design, living religion will 
keep your eye upon your end, and make } T ou steady and con- 
stantly true to that, and to your rule, without which you can 
never hope to reach your end. 

" Now hereupon such as conform to the public Establish- 
ment, and they that dissent from it, may differ from each 
other upon a twofold account : either, 1, as judging the 
contrary way to be simply unlawful ; or, 2, as judging it to 
be only less edifying. It is not the business of this paper to 
discuss who herein judge aright, and who wrong ; but sup- 
posing their judgment to remain as it is, (which they them- 
selves, however, should examine ; and, if it be wrong, rectify:) 
I shall say somewhat to each of these cases. 

" To the former, while your judgment continues as it is, it 
is true you cannot join in worship with the contrary minded: 
but nothing forbids, but you can be kind, coaversable, 
courteous towards them ; and your common Christian profes- 
sion (besides the rules of humanity) obliges you so to be ; 
yea, and even to converse with them, as occasion invites, more 
intimately as Christians, the visible marks of serious Chris- 
tianity appearing in them. 

M To the latter sort, it is acknowledged, you cannot con- 
stantly join in worship with those of the contrary way, 
because you ought ordinarily to worship God in that way 
which you judge to be best, and most agreeable to the Divine 
rule ; (though you are not obliged utterly to abandon any 
for its imperfections or corruptions, that is not corrupt in the 
very essentials ;) and you ought most frequently to attend on 
that which you find to be most edifying to your own soul ; as 
that should be your more ordinary diet that best agrees with 

N 2 



268 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



you. That way, therefore, you must most constantly adhere 
to, which is most grateful and savoury to you ; because you 
cannot so much edify by what you less relish. But your 
judgment and latitude will well allow you sometimes to fre- 
quent the assemblies with which you hold not constant 
communion. And if it will allow, it will also direct you 
thereto for a valuable end; as that you may signify, you 
ordinarily decline them not as no Christians, or their worship 
as no worship, but as more defective, or less edifying ; and 
that you may maintain love, and both express and beget a 
disposition to nearer union. And if our rulers shall judge 
such intercourses conducing to so desirable an end, they may, 
perhaps, in due time think it reasonable to put things into 
that state, that ministers of both sorts may be capable of 
inviting one another occasionally to the brotherly .offices of 
mutual assistance in each other's congregations. For which, 
and all things that tend to make us a happy people, we must 
wait upon Him in whose hands their hearts are." 

But such, for a time, was the state of public 
feeling, that even appeals like these exerted only 
a very partial influence. The waters had not yet 
subsided, and Howe sent forth the dove of peace in 
vain ; it found no rest for the sole of its foot. His 
efforts, however, brought their own reward; if he 
could not allay the animosities of others, he himself 
was calm. From the ark of a quiet and untroubled 
spirit, he looked forth serenely on the tempestuous 
waters, and mourned over the ravages he could not 
prevent. 

In the year 1690, Howe published a funeral sermon 
for Esther, the wife of Dr. Henry Sampson,* (phy- 

* Dr. Sampson is noticed by Calamy in his " Ejected Ministers." He 
was educated for the Church, and preached for a considerable time, but was 
never ordained. He afterwards studied physic at the universities of Padua 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



269 



sician,) who was a member of his church. The lady 
died on a Sunday, after a lingering illness of eighteen 
years ; a circumstance which suggested to Howe the 
following appropriate text for the funeral sermon : — 
"Ought not this woman, being a daughter of Abraham, 
whom Satan hath bound, lo, these eighteen years, to 
be loosed from this bond on the sabbath day ?"* 

and Leyden. Having a strong taste for history and antiquities, lie became 
intimate with Ealph Thoresby, the topographer of Leeds ; from whose diary, 
recently published, I have extracted a few particulars respecting Howe in 
the next chapter. 
* Luke xiii. 16. 



CHAPTER X. 



FROM ]690 TO 1703. 

DISPUTES AMONG THE NONCONFORMISTS — ATTEMPT TO UNITE THE PRESBY- 
TEEIANS AND CONGREGATION ALISTS — "HEADS OF AGREEMENT " — AGITATION 
OF THE ANTTNOMIAN CONTROVERSY — CIRCUMSTANCES WHICH LED TO IT — 
DR. CRISP'S SERMONS — HOWl'S SERMONS ON THE CARNALITY OF RELIGIOUS 
CONTENTION — LETTER TO MR. SPILSBURY — LETTERS FROM THE MSS. IN 
WOBTTRN ABBEY — LETTERS FROM THE AYSCOUGH MSS. IN THE BRITISH 
MUSEUM — LETTERS TO SLR CHARLES AND LADY HOGHTON, AND OTHERS — 
CONTROVERSY ON "OCCASIONAL CONFORMITY ' ; — PRINCIPLES ON WHICH 
HOWE DEFENDED THAT PRACTICE. 

Events were now at hand, destined to try the 
truly Christian principles and temper of Howe 
most severely. Believed from the fear of persecu- 
tion, the nonconformists began to quarrel among 
themselves. Pressure from without had hitherto 
kept them together; and its removal was the signal 
for internal disunion. The first symptoms of dis- 
sension betrayed themselves shortly after the publi- 
cation of the " Heads of Agreement/'* (as they 
were most infelicitously called,) by the " United 
Ministers." The object of those resolutions was to 
effect a formal coalition between the Presbyterians 
and Congregation alists. As these parties had already 
many points of union, and were bound together 
by community of interest and of feeling as well as 
by entire agreement in doctrine, any stricter union 

* Published in 1691. 



LIFE OF HOAYE. 



271 



than as yet subsisted would have been more wisely 
left to the influence of time, and the silent and 
spontaneous operation of Christian charity. As it 
was, the project terminated, as might have been 
foreseen, only in exciting jealousies that might not 
otherwise have existed, and awakening prejudices 
that might have slumbered for ever.* 

These disputes, however, were of little conse- 
quence, compared with those which were occasioned 
by the reprinting of Dr. Crisp's works ;f which, 
from certain circumstances connected with their 
publication, led to a fierce agitation of the whole 
Antinomian controversy. Never were the words 
of the wise man more completely verified. It was, 
indeed, a " little spark" which first kindled the 
flames of this fearful conflagration. 

The circumstances were as follows : — The works 
of Dr. Crisp were republished by his son. Having 
enriched the precious farrago by some discourses from 
his father's MSS., never before printed, the editor must 
needs solicit the signatures of several of the most 
deservedly popular ministers in the metropolis to 
an attestation, that they believed the sermons in 
question to be the genuine productions of Dr. 
Crisp ! A sinister purpose is, I think, evident on 
the very face of the transaction. One cannot but 
regard it as a mean artifice for securing an additional 
popularity to the sermons, by leading the public to 
conclude, either that this attestation to the genuine- 
ness of the sermons implied an approval of their 

* The "Heads of Agreement" will be found in Calamy's Abridgment of 
Baxter's Life. Howe himself took an important part in preparing them. 
+ 1691, 1692. 



p 



272 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



contents, (as was really inferred in a great many 
cases,) or, at least, that the attesting parties must 
deem the sermons of considerable value, since they 
had thought it worth while gravely to subscribe a 
belief in their authenticity. That such a conclusion 
was most natural, who can deny ? What but this, 
it might plausibly be asked, could induce them to 
give such a testimony? What conceivable reason 
was there for such a step, had they thought the 
sermons worthless ? Why should they, in that case, 
take the trouble to tell the world that the sermons 
might be relied on as the veritable productions of 
Dr. Crisp ? Thus what was, in fact, merely an act 
of easy good-nature to the importunate and, perhaps, 
needy publisher, would be construed, and was con- 
strued, into a sanction of sentiments which most 
of the subscribing parties abhorred. 

That it was a trick, I am led to believe for 
the following reasons. First, what imaginable rea- 
son could the editor have for supposing that the 
world would, without the shadow of a cause, doubt 
his affirmation as to the genuineness of the sermons 
in question, or suspect that he had palmed on the 
public, as Dr. Crisp's productions, what were not 
his ? Was there anything incredible in the repre- 
sentation that his father had left some MSS. behind 
him? Or, when MSS. are published under such 
circumstances, is it customary to seek attestations to 
their genuineness before the world has already 
hinted some suspicion of fraud ? Does an honest 
man think it worth while to anticipate slander, or 
to declare himself innocent before any one has 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



273 



breathed a suspicion of guilt? These reasons, if 
there were no others, "would he sufficient to show 
that the vounger Crisp's pretended motives could 
not hare been the real ones. 

But, secondly, could the works of Dr. Crisp — 
inimitably ridiculous in sentiment, vulgar in con- 
ception and style — need any other attestation to 
their genuineness than then own intrinsic absmdity? 
TTould they not authenticate themselves all the world 
over ? If, indeed, the posthumous sermons had in- 
dicated any diversitv in point of style or sentiment 
from those published in his lifetime ; if they had mani- 
fested either sobriety of mind or elegance of diction, 
there would have been some reason for demand- 
ing attestations : and, in truth, under such circum- 
stances, scarcelv anv amount of testimony would 
have been sufficient. But as long as their genuine- 
ness was sustained by the same internal evidence 
which authenticated his former writings, such tes- 
timonies were quite superfluous. Dr. Crisp had a 
patent for nonsense and vulgarity, which defied 
successful imitation. 

Upon the supposition that this eager solicitation 
of signatures was, as I believe, a trick, it must be 
confessed that it was a trick exactly suited to the 
genius of Antinomianism ; perfectly worthy of the 
mean, treacherous, dishonest spirit, which such a 
system cannot fail to inspire. 

I grieve to say, that amongst those who fell into 
the ambush, was John Howe. It is the only in- 
stance, so far as I know, in which his characteristic 
prudence signally failed him. 

N 3 



274 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



The impression which the signatures in question 
produced, was such as might be expected. It was 
in vain that Howe protested against the absurdity 
of confounding a simple attestation to the genuineness 
of a document with a belief in the truth of its con- 
tents. Simple and obvious as the distinction was, 
the explanation, to many, w r as far from satisfactory. 
The stupid could not see it, and the prejudiced 
would not. 

Amongst others who expressed their surprise at 
this incautious proceeding, was Richard Baxter. In 
his earlier and more vigorous days, this great man, 
whose zeal had engaged him, at one time or other, 
in combating almost every form of error, had par- 
ticularly signalized himself by his efforts to expose 
the enormous follies of Antinomianism . It is not 
surprising, therefore, that he should have been dis- 
posed to regard with peculiar jealousy and suspicion 
anything, however trivial, which seemed to favour 
its progress. Even if this S2)ecial stimulus had been 
wanting, it is by no means improbable that he 
would have exulted, old as he was, in the oppor- 
tunity of once more brandishing his redoubtable 
quill in an honourable cause. He had been all his 
life long a sort of knight-errant in controversy, 
and relinquished with reluctance his career of ad- 
venture. Repose was irksome : he looked with a 
lingering eye on the trophies of his younger days, 
and on the idle weapons which were now rusting on 
the wall. He resembled an old war-horse, who still 
starts at the sound of a trumpet ; or, rather, some 
pugnacious cudgel-player, who, as soon as he comes 



LIFE OF HOWE, 



275 



within the grateful sound of a broil, feels irresistibly 
impelled to take jDart in it. In this case, however, 
he had something more than his innate pugnacity of 
disposition to stimulate him. 

With his usual promptitude, he drew up a paper 
on the subject. It was just ready for publication, 
when Howe, hearing of it, hastened to him, and 
conjured him to suppress it ; promising, in order to 
show that his testimony to the genuineness of Crisp's 
sermons implied no approbation of the doctrines 
they advocated, to prefix his name to the forth- 
coming refutation of those doctrines which John 
Flavel was preparing for the press, under the title of 
" A Blow at the Root ; or, the Causes and Cures of 
Mental Errors." Baxter reluctantly acquiesced; 
Howe fulfilled his promise ; and all but the most 
obstinate were satisfied. 

The controversy, however, proceeded. The press 
teemed with pamphlets on both sides, till party 
spirit became inflamed to a pitch of bitterness 
altogether unprecedented. But as it is not neces- 
sary for the illustration of Howe's life and character, 
to pursue the history of the controversy any farther, 
I gladly drop a veil over these excesses of party. 

As Howe's sentiments on the controverted points 
had been already fully and frequently expressed 
in his previous writings, he would not in all pro- 
bability have engaged in these disputes, even if 
they had been carried on in a less rancorous spirit. 
As it was, a ship in a tempest would have been 
about as pleasant to a philosopher, as such a S3ene 
of tumultuous and passionate controversy to a spirit 



276 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



like that of John Howe.* He contented himself, 
therefore, with an earnest attempt to soften the 
ferocity of party spirit, and to reclaim the disputants 
to a recollection of what was due to truth, to them- 
selves, and to one another. - )* 

It was partly with this view that he published his 
sublime discourses, entitled, " The Carnality of 
Religious Contention.''^ He makes no special refer- 
ence, however, to the controversy then agitated ; 
but confines himself to the exposition of principles 
of universal application. 

These discourses were originally preached at the 
Merchants' Lecture, in Broad-street, 1693. They 
are distinguished in almost equal degree by the 
exquisite spirit of charity which pervades them, and 
the profoundly philosophical character of the prin- 
ciples they unfold. Of the preface to these dis- 
courses, Mr. Spademan, Howe's coadjutor, thus 

* During a considerable part of the autumn of the year 1692, Howe was 
out of town on a visit in the north ; probably at the seat of Lord Wharton, 
in Yorkshire. It was at this time he visited Thoresby, from whose diary I 
extract the following notice of him : — 

" Sept. 10. — Afternoon, had a letter recommendatory from Lord Wharton, 
for the eminent Mr. Howe, of London ; whose excellent company, with the 
Rev. Mr. Todd's, I enjoyed rest of day ; and, evening, his assistance in family 
duty. 

"12th. — Morning, enjoyed Mr. Howe's assistance in family prayer, then 
accompanied him to Pontefract. Lord, preserve him from the danger of his 
journey, and convey him safe to his own habitation, that he may be con- 
tinued as a blessing to this nation." 

In July of this year, Howe preached a funeral sermon for the Rev. John 
Kempster, who was ejected from Brixham, Devon. He died in London. 

+ In 1692, appeared a paper, entitled "The Agreement in Doctrine 
among the Dissenting Ministers in London." To this Howe's name was 
attached. It did little or nothing towards appeasing the wrath of the con- 
tending parties. 

+ The text is, "Walk in the Spirit, and ye shall not fulfil the lusts of 
the flesh." 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



277 



speaks :* "It breathes so* heavenly a charity and 
concern for the truly Christian interest, that a very 
eminent divine of the Established Church did pro- 
fess a willingness to lay down his own life, if such a 
state of things as is there described might obtain 
among Christians." The most striking part of the 
first sermon is that in which he shows that it is very 
possible this spirit may exist in its worst forms, even 
where it is least likely to be suspected, — in the 
hearts of those who advocate the truth. The second 
sermon (which is worthy of universal perusal in this 
age of party strife) presents us with a masterly 
delineation of the various modes in which this spirit 
may display itself. 

" It displays itself," he tells us, " when Christians, 
who are very far agreed in the most important things, 
make little of the things wherein they are agreed, 
though ever so great, in comparison of the much 
less things wherein they differ;" "when there is 
too much aptness to lay greater stress than is need- 
ful upon some unscriptural words, in delivering 
Scripture doctrine;" " when we consider with too 
little indulgence one another's mistakes and mis- 
applications in the use even of Scripture words, 
placing them (as some may do) upon things to which 
they do not properly belong, when yet they agree 
about the things themselves;" "when there is an 
agreement about the main and principal things that 
the Scripture revelation contains and carries in it, 
but there is not that agreement about their mutual 
respects and references unto one another;" "when 

* In Howe's Funeral Sermon. 



278 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



we are over-intent to mould and square gospel 
truths and doctrines by human measures and models, 
and too earnestly strive to make them correspond;" 
" when there is a discernible proneness to oppose 
the great things of the gospel to one another, and 
to exalt or magnify one above or against another ; " 
"when any do with great zeal contend for this or 
that opinion or notion as very sacred and highly 
spiritual, with no other design than that under that 
pretence they may indulge their own carnal inclina- 
tion with the greater liberty ;" " when, in maintain- 
ing any doctrine of the gospel in opposition to 
others, we industriously set ourselves to pervert 
their meaning, and impute things to them that they 
never say ; or if we charge their opinions whom we 
oppose with consequences which they disclaim ; " 
" when disputes arise at length to wrath, to angry 
strife, yea, and even to fixed enmity;" "when any 
adventure to judge of the consciences and states of 
them whom they oppose, or from whom they differ ; " 
"when we over-magnify our own understandings, 
and assume too much to ourselves;" and, finally, 
"in an affectation and desire of having such dis- 
putes still kept afoot, and the contests . continued, 
without either limit or rational design." 

But the tempest of passion ran so high, that the 
voice of reason was lost in it. In 1694, Mr. Daniel 
Williams* was excluded from the Tuesday's Lecture 
at Pinners' Hall, which led to the establishment of a 
new one on Thursday, at Salters' Hall, where Howe, 
Bates, and Alsop, joined their expelled brother. 



* Afterwards Dr. Williams, the founder of the library in Redcross- street. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



279 



Howe's first sermon at this new Lecture is said to 
have been deeply affecting. The text was, " And 
there is none that calleth upon thy name, that 
stirreth up himself to take hold of thee : for thou 
hast hid thy face from us, and hast consumed us 
because of our iniquities." * 

An account of the final rupture which terminated 
in the establishment of the new Lecture, is given in 
an interesting letter of Howe to his early and be- 
loved friend, Mr. Spilsbury, dated in the spring of 
the following year. It appears that he had pre- 
viously written on the subject, but the communica- 
tion does not seem to have come to hand. 

It is clear, from this letter, that the spirit of the 
more intemperate among those who remained at 
Pinners' Hall, soon alienated the affections of the 
more moderate, especially of the venerable and 
truly excellent Matthew Mead, 

"London, April 20, —95. 

" My dear Brother, 

"You strangely forget yourself, when you say I 
gave you no account of the Pinners' Hall business, of which. 
I sent you a large narrative when the business was recent ; 
which, if it miscarried, tell me so, and I promise you I will 
never do the like again : for it is a very discouraging thing, 
when it is so hard a matter to get time to write such long 
letters, to have them lost by the way ; or it is not better, if, 
when they are received, they are taken pro non scriptis. Grod 
knows how I strove against that division. Almost all my 
friends that called me to bear a part in that lecture, perceiv- 
ing the violence of the other party, agreed to remove to a 
much more convenient place ; and they were, so far as I can 
learn, the greatest part of the ancient subscribers, who were 

* Isaiah bdv. 7. 



280 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



grave, sober citizens. They invited Mr. Mead as well as me. 
If be would not go, I could not belp tbat. His acquaintance 
lay more among tbe otber, as mine did witb tbese. He and 
they all know tbe many meetings we bave had to prevent 
tbe breach — he and I with divers of them on both sides. 
And they (who are now of Pinners' Hall) ran against his 
advice and mine, when tbey had desired us to meet purposely 
to advise them. He hath been since as weary of them as 
others, as he hath owned to me. They avowed it for a 
principle, before we parted, they would lay any of us aside at 
their pleasure, without giving a reason ; and were told there- 
upon, we would lay down without giving them a reason, 
though I think that itself was a sufficient reason. They 
know, too, how often, since the Lecture was broken into two — 
and it appeared now there were two congregations, which no 
one place could receive — I have urged, both publicly and 
privately, tbat the same lecturers might alternate in both 
places, which would take away all appearance of disunion, 
and who they were only that opposed it. Upon these terms 
I had preached with them still ; but I will not be tied to 
them, nor any party, so as to abandon all others. My fre- 
quent insisting, in sermons among them, when I saw whither 
things tended, that these were tokens of what was coming, 
(just as thou writest,) will be thought on, it maybe, hereafter, 
though then it was not. Above all, that which determined 
me was, that when I solemnly proposed to them, in a sermon, 
the keeping a fast, before they went on to that fatal rupture — 
and it was as solemnly promised by the chief of them, there 
should be no step further made without a fast — it should be 
declined afterwards. Hereupon I told them, in my last 
sermon there, I should be afraid of confining myself to such 
as were afraid of fasting and prayer in so important a case, 
(repeating their own good resolution to that purpose,) and 
began my course in the other place with a fast, to lament 
what we could not prevent. These things will be recollected 
another day. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



281 



" In the meantime, there never was greater intimacy or 
endearedness "between 3Ir. Mead and me than now. Last 
week he desired me only, without any other, to join with him 
in keeping a fast at Ms house, about some private affairs of 
his own, which we did. I was to have preached at his place 
to-morrow, after my own work at home : but present indis- 
position prevents me as to both. TTe have, however, agreed 
to exchange sometimes : but this cannot last long. The 
things that threaten us make haste. Only let us be found 
among the mourners in Zion : comforts will come, in this or 
the better world. I just now heard from Mr. Porter out of 
Sussex, who inquires after thee. 

" In the Lord, farewell : 
" To thee and thine, 

" From me and mine, 

" "With most entire and 
undecaying affection, 
"J. H." 



Simultaneously with these unseemly disputes, oc- 
curred others, scarcely less so, on the Trinitarian 
controversy, — principally, however, amongst writers 
in the Establishment. Amongst others who had 
recently published on the subject, were Wallis, 
Sherlock, South, and Cudworth. A tract having 
appeared, professing to be a review of the several 
theories maintained by these writers, Howe was 
induced to compose his celebrated piece, entitled, 
" A Calm and Sober Inquiry." This was followed, 
the same year, by a " Postscript," containing certain 
letters to Dr. Wallis ; to which, in reply to some 
animadversions that had been made on the "In- 
quiry," he afterwards added some further remarks. 

In the year 1694, as appears from the following 



282 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



letters, published in this work for the first time 7 
from the MSS. in the library at Woburn Abbey, 
Howe paid a visit to the Duke of Bedford. The 
following' letter is addressed to his Grace's chaplain, 
and apologizes, for not haying visited Woburn Abbey 
again, according to promise. 

TO THE REV. MR. THORNTON. 

" Love-lane* Aldermanbury, 
" London, Aug. 16, 94. 

" Worthy Sir, 

" When I lately waited on my Lord Duke, it not 
a little troubled me that my narrow limits of time allowed 
me not to comply with his Grace's desire of passing one 
Lord's-day at Woburn Abbey ; which I told him (having 
then been some weeks already absent from the congregation 
under my care) I might better do after I had been some time 
at home. I did, therefore, in pursuance of that intention, 
begin my journey Tuesday last ; but by that time I had rid 
to High gate, so violent a rain fell, that I was forced to take 
up for several hours ; and upon its holding up a little, went 
on as far as Barnet, in continual rain ; for that intermission 
wherein I set forward afresh proved very short. And (that I 
may freely accuse myself to you) I was so great a coward, 
that, not having of late been used to ride in wet weather, 
fearing ill consequences, I durst adventure no further ; but 
yesterday morning, not seeing any hope of better weather, I 
returned home. You know better than I (with the tender of 
my humble duty) to make an apology for me to his Grace, 
as handsomely as the matter will admit. My turn's now 
come on at our monthly Lecture, which, by our ordinary rule, 
is not wont to be transferred, and will tie me here some 

* Id what year Howe removed to Love-lane I know not. All the sub- 
sequent letters, except two, are dated from thence : those are dated from 
St. John-street. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



283 



weeks : for in each month two alternate, each preaching 
twice in the month : and afterwards, I doubt the journey is 
not to be attempted on horseback. ~Nor do I know another 
war as yet. Perhaps I may obtain the indulgence to have it 
judged in my case — though the thing attempted was not 
great — voluisse sat est. I lately met in the street (which you 
may please, with the tender of my humblest services, to let 
my Lady Russell know) Mrs. Howland, in her coach, which 
she suddenly caused to be stopped, and told me that, being 
shortly to take a journey to Canmers in Essex, she desired to 
see me at Streatham before she went, — where, waiting on 
her, after some discourse, I having intimated to her, that 
probably I might ere long see TToburn Abbey, she desired 
me to say some things to my Lady Russell, which I shall not 
write, unless my Lady command it, and give direction to 
whom, (for I know her Ladyship is not to be put upon 
using her own eyes in reading letters ;*) yet, so far I can 
apprehend, it is rather decency than the nature of the thing 
I have to say, that makes me so reserved for the present, f 
" I kiss the hands of your noble charge ; and am, 
"Sir, 

" Tour very respectful, 

" Humble Servant, 

" John Howe. 

* Lady Russell was at this time nearly blind. 

t I have little doubt that this has some reference to the proposed marriage 
between Wriothesley, son of Lady Rachel Russell, and Elizabeth, daughter 
and co-heiress of John Howland, of Streatham, with whom he received a 
princely fortune. The marriage took place in the following year, 1695 ; and, 
in consequence of it, he was created Baron Howland, of Streatham, in the 
county of Surrey. 

We have already had one other instance of Howe's being employed in 
negotiations of this kind. We may mention a third. He had some years 
before been commissioned by the wealthy merchant, Sir Josiah Child, to 
propose a marriage between this very son of Lady Russell, and Sir Josiah's 
grand- daughter, the Lady Henrietta Somerset. This proposal Lady Russell 
declined; on which the merchant, evidently somewhat piqued, wrote to 
Howe as follows : — "I received your favour of the 22nd inst., and your 



284 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



" My Lord Duke's intended favour of venison (though I 
have little reason to expect it) is now like to find me at home 
the next week. 

" Give my respects to Mr. Bingley. 

" For the Rev. Mr. Thornton, 

" Chaplain to his Grace the Duke of Bedford, 

" At Wobum Abbey, Bedfordshire" 

Notwithstanding Howe's doubts, the promised 
venison arrived in a few days. His correspondent 
having dated the letter which accompanied it a day 
too late, he makes a playful allusion to this circum- 
stance, at the commencement of his reply: — " The 
venison," he says, "is incomparably good;" which 
is the nearest approach to anything like an expres- 
sion of animal gratification that is to be found in 
any writings of John Howe. Doubtless, however, 
he found, like less abstracted mortals, that physical 
enjoyment was not altogether to be despised. 

The note does not contain much ; yet it is 
amusing, as containing one or two of the little 
touches, which show us that human nature, in 
its familiar moods, is always the same, and that 

letter of the 28th. The answer intimated in your first was so cold, that I 
concluded the noble lady either understood not the considerableness of the 
proposal, or had predetermined the disposal of her son some other way, and 
did expect to hear no more of it : the rather I thought so, from that expres- 
sion in your letter, that the young lord was in the course of his education, — 
which I never knew to be a bar to parents discoursing of the matching of 
their children, which are born to extraordinary great fortunes ; and that 
being the case of the noble young lord, as well as of my grand-daughter, made 
me the forwarder, without her mother's privacy, to write that letter to you, 
that so great a fortune, as God's providence has cast upon her, might fall 
into the best and most pious noble family I know — for such I esteem my 
Lord Bedford's to be." 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



285 



the gravest of our race have eaten, and drunk, and 
jested, and laughed, like their less sedate fellows. 

" Love-lane, Aldermanhury , 
" Aug. 21, 94. 

" The venison is arrived with greater expedition than if it 
had come upon its own swift legs. For hy the date of your 
letter, the 21st, it is here as soon as it could be sent away 
from Woburn Park. Sac raptim. It is indeed incomparably 
good. I am mightily pleased to think, my most humble 
thanks to his Grace, will by such a hand as yours be tendered 
with that becoming decency, that would have been wanting, 
had the part of a grateful orator been to be immediately per- 
formed by, 

" Sir, 

" Your very respectful, humble Servant, 

" John Howe." 

In this year he addressed the following letter of 
condolence to a lady, whose name is unknown, on 
the loss of a daughter. 

" Bear and honoured Madam, 

" Did you think, two or three months ago, such a 
trial was so near ? Such sad futurities Grod, in mercy to us, 
hides from us, that we may not afflict ourselves before he 
afflicts us ; and that when he intends we should suffer that 
particular affliction but once, namely, when it comes, we may 
not impose so hardly upon ourselves, as to suffer it a thousand 
times over before it comes. ' Sufficient for the day/ &c. If 
he should have made us all prophets, in reference to all the 
events of our time, we should bring all the evils of every 
future day into every former day ; as if the evil of the day 
were not enough for the day. 

" But though he gives us not certain predictions of such 



286 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



evils, lest lie should torment us, lie gives forewarnings, lest 
he should surprise us. He hath told us we must all once die, 
and not when ; that life is a vapour ; that all flesh is grass ; 
that the beauty or glory of it is but as the flower of grass ; 
withering things ! He hath asserted his own dominion over 
lives, and over the spirits of all flesh, as the God of them, to 
lodge and dislodge them, where and as he pleases. And who 
are we, that we should grudge him that dominion ; or so 
much as wish we could have wrested that part of his empire 
out of his hands ? But when he afflicts, it is good to consider 
what it is for. It comes not ' out of the dust/ though it 
may reduce us or ours thither. And if our utmost search 
cannot find out a particular cause, (wherein we should take 
heed of being too indulgent and partial to ourselves, but 
should beg that what we know not he would teach us,) yet 
we should, however, more earnestly endeavour to improve 
the affliction to the general end, which we may be sure he 
aims at ; to withdraw our minds from this present world and 
state of things ; to take heed of being peremptory in laying 
any designs that must be measured by time, and be subject 
to the uncertainties of it ; to determine nothing but with 
that reserve, ' If God will, we shall do this, or that/ James 
iv. 15 ; to have our minds engulfed and swallowed up, not 
of the stream of time, but of the ocean of eternity ; to be 
easily taken off from any purpose, the scene whereof must be 
laid on this earth or lower world ; to have our hearts more 
entirely and more strongly set upon God, so as to be able to 
say, 'Whom have I in heaven or earth besides thee?* that 
the true end may be gain, though such a comfort be lost, and 
the particular offending cause cannot be found. 

" We may err, in thinking some such particular offence 
must be fastened upon. If it clearly can, it ought ; if not, it 
is better forbear judging than misjudge. Possibly, chasten- 
ing for a particular sin may not be God's design : it is not 
always. We may be sure it never is his principal design, in 
taking away one relative from another. He made all things 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



287 



(principally) for himself; he made us but secondarily for one 
another. If his principal design in making such a creature 
was not to please me, his principal design in taking it away 
was not to displease or afflict me. He hath his own greater 
and higher end concerning his own creature, to glorify himself 
upon it, and by it, in a greater world than this. Many afflic- 
tions are for trial ; and that in such a case is an awful thought. 

" The jealous God hath me now under trial, how I can 
bear, how I can submit, how I can reverence his hand, how I 
can behave myself towards him when he afflicts ; whether I 
will venture to contend with him, or be sullen and morose 
towards him, because he hath bereaved me of a child I 
delighted in ; whether I better loved him or my child. The 
trial may be manifold ; of my faith, of my patience, of my 
fear of him, of my love to him ; and, I may add, it may be 
intended for a trial of gratitude, and a mighty trial that is. 
We are required in everything to give thanks. And Job 
did it, and said, blessed be the name of the Lord,' when 
with all his substance he took away all his children at once ; 
' The Lord hath given, the Lord hath taken.' The injunction, 
' In every thing give thanks,' signifies there is in everything 
some matter of praise. I know not so immediately what was 
in this case ; but if there was what I have heard, great indi- 
cations of early piety, if there were grounds to hope there 
were a work of regeneration wrought, there is infinitely more 
matter of thanksgiving than complaint. What had the life 
of a child been worth without this ? when better never to 
have been born ! It is a far greater thing if he have taken 
her as his own child, than if he had left her to you, only as 
yours. If you have faith to look into the unseen world, and 
behold her taken into the society of angels, and of the spirits 
of just men made perfect, how much more hath God done for 
her and you, than if he had left her to your care and pro- 
vision in this wretched world ! We are told there is joy in 
heaven for the conversion of a sinner: much more for the 
glorification of a convert ! That joy ought to swallow up in 



288 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



very great part your sorrow. The good Lord frame your 
spirit suitably to these things, in whom I am 

" Your truly respectful Servant, 

" (Yery sensible of your case,) 

"J. Howe. 

" Love-lane, Aldermanbury, 
" London, Sept. 29, 1694." 

In December, 1694, Howe's congregation removed 
to a new chapel, in Silver-street. The place in 
which they had hitherto worshipped belonged to 
the Haberdashers' Company. Howe's colleague at 
this period was Mr. Thomas Reynolds.* 

In 1695, he published the Funeral Sermon for 
Queen Mary. It is entitled, " Heaven a State of 
Perfection," and is dedicated to Lady Russell. 

Thoresby was in town this year, and heard Howe. 
He has thus noted the circumstance in his diary. 
"May 19, Die Dom. Heard the famous Mr. Howe, 
both morning and afternoon, who preached incom- 
parably." 

In this year, within eight months of one another, 
died Howe's old patron and his lady, the Viscount 
and Viscountess Massarene. Their daughter Mary, 
as stated on a preceding page, had married Sir 
Charles Hoghton, of Hoghton Tower, in the county 
of Lancaster. With them and their family Howe 
maintained a most endeared intimacy until his 
death. On the decease of her parents, he sent 
Lady Hoghton the following letter of condolence. 

* Calamy's Life and Times, vol. i., p. 339. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



289 



" Most honoured, dear Madam, 

" When I heard of your former great loss, I was 
confined by distemper to my bed : and I received information 
of the other, when I was going a great journey to accompany 
my wife and daughter to the Bath, from whence they are not 
returned as yet, and I came home from my journeyings but last 
week. I have not in the meantime forgot your ladyship's afflic- 
tion, nor been without the apprehension how tender a sense 
your loss of two such parents must be accompanied with. 
Nor should I now mention it, did I not apprehend it may yet. 
be reflected on to better purpose, than only to renew your 
sorrow. And that it may, I pray you, let it be remembered 
in the first place, with serious gratitude, (for we are required 
in everything to give thanks,) that Gfod continued to you 
the comfort of such relations so long, and for the many 
mercies he made them instrumental of to you, in your tender 
years ; that he vouchsafed to you the blessing of so excellent 
an education by their means ; that you were thereby brought 
to know him and his Christ ; that by their care you were so 
comfortably settled in the world, and in a station wherein he 
hath given you the opportunity of being so serviceable in 
building up a family for him, and of contributing to the 
planting and propagating religion in it ; and that you see so 
much of a blessing from heaven upon the plantation. Your 
part is that of a mother, and you have had a great example 
before your eyes. That may still live (and I doubt not will) 
in your mind and heart, while the person that gave it still 
lives in a higher region, whither, following such steps, you 
also will be translated in the fittest season. 

" I pray for the welfare, in all valuable respects, of your 
ladyship, and all yours; being, in great sincerity, your 
ladyship's 

" Most respectful, 

"And most faithful, humble Servant, 

" J. Howe. 

" Love-lane, Aldermanbury , London, 
" Sept. o, 1695." 



290 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



I find no further trace of Howe till 1697, when he 
wrote a letter to Mr. Spademan, who was then residing 
at Kotterdam, but who was soon to become his col- 
league. The contemplated connexion between them 
forms, in all probability, the main subject of the 
letter ; at the same time, I confess, the allusions in it 
are for the most part unintelligible to me. I found 
the document among the MSS. in the Ayscough 
catalogue, British Museum. It is given below.* 

On the day of thanksgiving for the restoration ot 
peace, December 2, 1697, Howe preached a sermon, 

* TO ME. SPADEMAN". 

"Dear Sir, 

' ' You very well know, and I desire to consider, that to mutter, or 
even more inwardly to repine, at that providence which overrules all our 
affairs, especially when they are involved with the concernments of many 
others besides, is both undutiful and vain ; injures the sovereign Euler, and 
doth ourselves no good. My last to you was by the gentleman of whom I 
had writ to you before. But I presume he may still be in the fleet that hath 
lain wind-bound some weeks at Harwich. The truth is, before he went 
hence, he was in [doubt] whether to go with that or the packet-boat, but his 
friends have advised him to the former course, as safer, and possibly, if the 
wind proved direct, (considering the land journey to Harwich,) more expedi- 
tious : but being actually [close,] and the wind continuing long adverse, I 
thought, he, being before indifferent, might have left the fleet to go with the 
packet that sails often with a less favourable wind than fleets use to set forth 
with. But I apprehend the continual expectation of a change of wind would 
withhold him. And my expectation of the same change hath withheld me 
too from writing by the packet ever since : still supposing what I writ by 
him would be sooner with you I saw what your last said to Mr. Gunston. 
When either his, or mine by Mr. Wallis, or this, "reaches your hands, you 
will be delivered from your [amazement,] which the wind (continuing long 
so constantly opposite) hath, I hope, in good measure, expelled already. 
Patient expectation of the issue, with prayers and hopes of a good one, is the 
[duty] of you and 

"Your affectionate Brother and Servant, 

"J. H. 

"London, April 6, 1697." 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



291 



which was published in the ensuing year. It was 
dedicated to Lord Haversham. 

In the beginning of 1698, he addressed the two fol- 
lowing letters to his venerable friend, Mr. Spilsbury, 
which closed their long and delightful intimacy. 

" My dear Brother, 

" How hard a matter is it to keep up converse at 
this rate ! when all that is pleasant and gainful in it lies on 
one side only. I read thy lines with fruit and delight ; but 
have nothing to return of any value. And if a conscience is 
to be exercised in this sort of traffic, or indeed but a tolerable 
ingenuity, it cannot but occasion some regret, to barter away 
things of no worth for good commodities. If I tell thee I 
live, what doth that signify ? when life itself is so little 
worth, how despicable is the notice of it ! If I tell thee I 
love thee, thou knowest it before as to the quod sit ; but for 
the quid sit f no words can express it ; therefore the offer at it 
is vain. When, when shall we meet above ? That will make 
us pure good company, when dulness and sluggishness are 
shaken off and gone, and we shall be all spirit and life. Yet 
we shall be doing our Lord some service here, or that he will 
accept as such, if we be sincere. Thou wilt be visited by a 
worthy person ere long, that is gone first to Kidderminster, 
and means, after he hath seen the son, to come to the father. 

" Cordial salutations from me and mine, to thee and thine. 
Farewell in our dear Lord : and still remember, 

" Thy entirely affectionate, 

" J. Howe. 

" St. John-street, Jan. 25, 1698." 

" May I once more hope to salute my dear brother in this 
world ? Whether I shall or not, I must leave to Him to whom 
greater, and all things, must be left. Thou mayest have 
taken thy night before this reach thee ; but the soul and 
spirit from whence it comes may in due time, through the 

o 2 



292 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



infinite riches of freest grace, and the atoning bloocl of that 
sacrifice which once for all was offered up. ' We come to the 
general assembly and to the spirits of just men made perfect, 5 
but as we come to ' Jesus the Mediator of the new testament, 
and to the blood of sprinkling. 5 ' By his own blood he is 
entered into the holy of holies, as the forerunner, and for us. 5 
Upon such terms may sinful unprofitable servants hope to 
enter, and be received under the notion of faithful, and as 
those that are graciously counted such, into the joy of their 
Lord. Thou art ready to enter, and wilt shortly be adoring 
before the throne : oh, with what complacency, receiving 
the end of thy faith, having fought the good fight of it ! 
And must thy poor brethren left behind, sigh and groan 
still ? amidst their drowsy hearers, and too drowsy fruitless 
labours ? But I envy thee not ; and those that are dearest 
and nearest to thee owe thee so much as to rejoice in thy joy, 
while they cannot as yet in their own. Thou art upon my 
heart, if Grod saw it good, to live and die with thee. This 
day se 5 nnight thy worthy brother B. and my brother F. 
dined with me, when thou wast most affectionately remem- 
bered ; but art no day forgotten, by thy sincere lover, and of 
all thine, hoping and aiming (though faintly) to be thy 
follower. 

" J. Howe. 

"March 18, 1698. 55 

" If there be joy in heaven for a converted sinner, shall 
there not for a glorified saint, and the leader and teacher of 
many such ; some that are in glory, and others that shortly 
shall be ? Oh, the triumph at thy abundant entrance ! 55 

Mr. Spilsbury died the 10th of July following. 

In this year Howe addressed the following strik- 
ing letter of consolation to Sir Charles and Lady 
Hoghton, on the loss of that hopeful and beloved 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



293 



son, on whose untimely death he composed his sub- 
lime discourse on " The Redeemer's Dominion over 
the Invisible World." 

" Most worthily honoured Sir, with my dearest mid most 
honoured Lady, 

" It would be incomparably more grievous to me at 
this time to write to you, if I were under a necessity of 
writing nothing but what were mournful and sad. The 
same thing, if we turn it round, will be found to have a 
double aspect. That dispensation that represents you de- 
prived of an earthly son, speaks you the parents of a glorified 
child, more highly dignified than it was possible he could 
have been on earth. This post brings you greater news than 
if it had informed you, your son is created emperor of 
Germany, or king of France or Spain. Let us speak and 
think of things as we believe, and profess to believe. Indeed, 
if our apprehensions of their state in the unseen world, who 
were true lovers of God, have nothing of solace and pleasure 
in them, it is mere useless empty profession they are all to 
be resolved into, and not faith. 

" My heart bleeds for you, and with you both, but it can 
do you no good to tell you so. I believe your lovely son 
unfeignedly loved God ; and then read the rest, 1 Cor ii. 9 ; 
James i. 10, 12. Of how great use might he have been in 
this world ! But, are those glorious creatures above, to 
whom he is now joined, inactive or unemployed ? And are 
not their employments more noble and sublime, according to 
the more enlarged capacity of their faculties, and the higher 
dignity of their state? He was born to very considerable 
things as your heir ; but ' he was begotten again to a more 
glorious inheritance, and the lively hope of it/ They that 
were about him, before it was possible for me to see him, told 
me he was insensible, as he was before I heard of his illness ; 
but at my coming to him, he knew me at first sight, and 
seemed to have the use of his understanding for nothing but 



294 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



religion. He then spake not one misplaced word ; said, he 
doubted not God was his Father, and that his present afflic- 
tion was from the hand of that Father, not of an enemy. He 
desired me to pray with him, and seemed understandingly 
and affectionately to concur. This was on the Lord's day, 
and the next was the day of his glorious translation, near 
noon, before I could reach him a second time. 

" Mr. C came to me presently after, to advise with me 

about disposal of the body ; who could give no advice but in 
the general, to have it prepared for interment in a way that 
might be decent, and not profusely expensive ; not doubting 
but that there might be more particular direction from your- 
self, before actual interment, sent to Mr. C , &c, who is 

willing to take the care upon him of seeing instructions 
fulfilled. 

"The Lord support you both, and abundantly bless the 
rest of yours. 

" I am, most honoured Sir and Madam, 

" Your most affectionately sympathising 
" Servant in Christ our Lord, 

" John Howe. 

" St John-street, London, 
« Jan. 14, 1698." 

In this year he printed a funeral sermon for his 
old college friend, the Rev. Richard Adams ; and 
also a discourse preached before the " Societies for 
Reformation of Manners." 

The following year, 1699, must have been to Howe 
a most melancholy one, and must have drawn largely 
on his strength and spirits. Within a few months 
he lost two of his oldest and most endeared friends, 
the Rev. Matthew Mead, and the Rev. Dr. Bates. 
He preached the funeral sermons for both, and these 
were afterwards printed. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



295 



About this time his friend Thoresby, having long 
practised what was called " Occasional Conformity 
(on which, some remarks will be found in the fol- 
lowing pages,) went over entirely to the Church of 
England. He had been a member of the Presby- 
terian church, under the care of Dr. Manlove, of 
Leeds. The editor of Thoresby's Journal says, 
" Mr. John Howe, a very eminent nonconformist 
minister, wrote on the .subject to Mr. Boyse, of 
Dublin, who happened to be at Leeds at the time, 
a letter which seems to have been intended for 
Thoresby's perusal." This letter I have recovered. 
I found it among the MSS. in the Ayscough cata- 
logue. It is as follows. 

TO THE REV. MR. BOYSE, AT MR. THOS. FENTON's, IN LEEDS. 

" Worthy Sir, 

" The K went away the night before yours came to 
my hand, which is too short, but a full answer to all the first 
part of your letter. I have thought Dr. M[anlove]'s re- 
moves to have been twice too hasty. I shall be glad, for the 
sake of so considerable a place as Leeds, if a supply can be 
got satisfactory and seasonable, that no prejudice accrue by 
the change. It hath been said here, it hath so much dis- 
gusted Mr. R. Thoresby, that he inclines totally to withdraw 
to the Church ; and that to justify his inclination, if not 
intentions to that purpose, he hath in some late discourses 
seemed to lay great stress upon that trivial sophism, rather 
than argument, that, if occasional communion (that is, with the 
Church of England) was lawful, constant [communion] was a 
duty. This I am not to take notice of to him. But if you 
have time to discourse with him, and shall, or have heard 
anything to the purpose from him, it were well, if he were 
closely dealt with, before your leaving that town. He hath 



296 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



seemed to have a great reverence for Mr. Baxter, who, I 
believe, gave as full assent to this proposition as to most, 
' That occasional communion with the Church of England 
was lawful ; ' and to this, ' That our distinct communions in 
our present circumstances were necessary.' I neither have 
[call] nor time (Saturday evening) to discuss this matter. 
The [above] excellent author hath said enough to prove this ; 
[and to keep] a man of Mr. T.'s understanding from being 
imposed upon by so transparent a fallacy. If theirs or any 
church be put to it to show their authority for making other 
terms of church- communion than Christ hath made, and then 
to make theirs the sole communion within such and such dis- 
tricts, our practice (till they have proved that talk) may with 
great satisfaction be continued long enough. * * * * * 
And if such a [cause,] to which so great a part of God's 
heritage in England have borne witness, by about forty 
years' sufferings, and to which God hath borne witness by 
the great [success] and blessing he hath given to them in 
their tabernacles, (when in this way they have endeavoured 
to keep [alive a sense of religion] in a time when hell was 
endeavouring the total extirpation and extinction of it,) shall 
be deserted and given up by a man of Mr. T.'s abilities, upon 
such a trifle of an argument, — it will stand without him ; but 
I should be sorry that he should lose the things he hath 
wrought, so as not to obtain that full reward I wish him. 
If you have time, you will need none of these suggestions 
from, 

" Your affectionate Brother, 

" H. I. 

" Other matters must be left till your desired return. 
''January 3, 99."* 

The above letter forms no unsuitable introduction 

* Under this is written by another hand; "Alias J. H., namely, Mr. 
John Howe ; the noted N. C. minister, at London ; a learned, pious, and 
excellent man, though I suppose not infallible in this argument. " 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



297 



to the account it is needful to give of the unplea- 
sant controversy in which Howe was involved, in 
1701-2, respecting " Occasional Conformity." As 
the principles on which he defended that practice 
(whatever may be thought of the extent to which 
he applied them) are precisely the same with those 
which are employed to advocate catholic intercom- 
munion among Christians of all denominations, — a 
subject which is deservedly attracting the attention 
of many of the excellent of all parties, — I shall make 
no apology for treating the matter at some length. 

From the very commencement of the great schism 
of 1662, many of the more moderate nonconformists, 
both lay and clerical, had practised " occasional 
communion" with the Church of England ; partly, 
because it was the establishment, under some modifi- 
cation of which they would have been willing to 
"conform,"* although they could not approve of the 
present constitution ; and partly (in the case of How^e 
it was the principal reason,) for the purpose of 
recognising the essential unity of Christians of every 
name, and expressing sympathy with the church 
universal. The same principle of course implied a 
willingness on his part to hold occasional com- 
munion with any other body of Christians, with 
whom such communion was not, in his estimation, 
sinful. The question, then, must evidently be deter- 
mined by the nature of the objections on which the 
person seceding justified his secession ; in other 



* It must be remembered that the bulk of the early nonconformists did 
not object to the principle of establishments. 

o 3 



298 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



words, by the state of the individual conscience. If 
a man thought the very rites and ceremonies, in 
which he would be called to join in any such com- 
munion, either sinful in themselves, or sinful from 
the circumstances attending the performance of them, 
there can be no doubt that in Mm, "occasional 
conformity" would be altogether unjustifiable. If, 
on the other hand, he did not think this; but justified 
his secession on the ground, that it is every man's 
duty ordinarily to adoj3t that system of worship 
which in his conscience he believes to be most in 
harmony with the New Testament, and best calcu- 
lated to promote his own spiritual benefit, it is 
obvious that such a man might consistently adopt 
the practice in question ; since he would not suppose 
the mere act of communion with the Church of 
England, sinful, but merely that the system of wor- 
ship adopted in another community possessed greater 
advantages. Supposing Howe sincere in declaring 
such to be his sentiments, — of which there has 
never, so far as I know, been the shadow of a 
doubt, — then the best way of testing the soundness 
of the principles by which he justified the practice, 
is to throw the argument into a general form, putting 
the Church of England, or any other community, 
entirely out of the question. 

The advocate of the practice would reason thus : — 
He would say, that of differing forms and modes of 
worship, every man is bound, as a general rule, to 
adhere to that which he believes most in accordance 
with the nature and design of the gospel, and best 
adapted to promote his spiritual welfare ; but that 



V 

V 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



299 



such reasons do not bind him invariably to abstain 
from communion with any other body of Christians 
with whom, in his estimation, such communion can be 
practised without sin ; that is, whose system he does 
not deem unlawful, but simply not so advantageous 
as his own ; that with all such parties he is fully 
warranted to hold occasional communion, (either 
on stated occasions, or as circumstances may afford 
convenient opportunity,) for the purpose of prac- 
tically recognising the essential unity of the uni- 
versal church, and his own sense both of the infinite 
importance of those points in which all Christians 
agree, and the comparative insignificance of those in 
which they differ ; this being a much more noble 
end than any which could be subserved by invariable 
communion only with his own party.* 

Different persons may of course judge differently 
as to what is not absolutely unlawful in the modes of 
worship adopted by other religious communities than 
their own. This question, as I have said, must be 
determined, after all, by a reference to the con- 
science of the individual. Many of Howe's con- 
temporaries, for instance, could not have held 
communion with the Church of England; yet he 
might safely do it. 

Into the discussion of the limits within which the 
above principles should be applied, I do not enter. 

* To illustrate this ; who would deny that a Congregationalist might 
safely practise occasional worship or communion with a body of Presbyte- 
rians or Wesleyan Methodists, although he would, for the reasons 
already mentioned, statedry prefer the modes of worship adopted by his own 
body? 



300 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



The general correctness of the principles themselves 
is all that I at present maintain. 

To affirm, as was often done, that he who could 
go thus far, ought to go farther, and that if occa- 
sional conformity was lawful, constant conformity 
was lawful also, or, as it was sometimes argued, 
even a duty : in other words, to affirm that what an 
individual might, for special reasons, sometimes do, 
that he ought for general reasons to do always, — is 
to forget the very grounds on which the man is 
supposed to secede; namely, because he is in 
duty bound to adopt as his ordinary system of 
religious worship, not that in which he might join 
without positive sin, but that which he deems most 
scriptural and most profitable.* Besides, in the 
case of Howe, as well as of every other minister, was 
there no difference between an occasional compliance 
with certain rites and ceremonies, which he did not 
think unlawful, and his acquiescence in the oaths 
and subscriptions required by the Act of Uniformity ; 
his ex-animo assent and consent to everything con- 
tained in the Thirty-nine Articles, and the Book of 
Common Prayer? Would not entire conformity, 
moreover, have demanded (what in his case would 
have been worse than all the rest) a renunciation ot 
that liberty of universal communion which was far 
dearer to him than the ties of party, and the adop- 
tion of that exclusive system, against which this, his 

* To recur to the illustration of the preceding note ; — what would be 
thought of the man who should argue that a Congregationalist, who occa- 
sionally, and for special reasons, held communion with Wesleyan Methodists, 
was bound to adopt their system of ecclesiastical polity and discipline ? 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



301 



condemned practice of occasional conformity, was 
mainly designed as a testimony ? 

But it is time to proceed to a brief narrative 
of the controversy on this subject, in which Howe 
became involved. Amongst other persons who, on 
the principles above explained, practised " occa- 
sional conformity," was Sir Thomas Abney, a 
member of Howe's congregation. In 1701, he 
became Lord Mayor of London, and some per- 
sons began to suspect that he practised occasional 
conformity, simply as a qualification for civil office. 
It is proper to add, for the purpose of doing 
full justice to Howe's conduct, that Sir Thomas had 
formed his opinions on this subject long before it 
was probable that he would be called on to comply 
with the law which made it imperative on every per- 
son holding any civil office to partake of the Lord's 
supper as administered in the Church of England. 
Amongst others who were scandalized at his con- 
duct, was Daniel De Foe, who published an anony- 
mous pamphlet, entitled, " Inquiry into the Occa- 
sional Conformity of Dissenters." The preface is 
addressed to Howe, who is required, either to vindi- 
cate the practice, or to condemn it. Howe showed 
some reluctance to enter into the controversy with 
his anonymous antagonist; but at length overcame 
his scruples, and put forth a small pamphlet, entitled, 
" Some Considerations of a Preface to an c Inquiry 
concerning the Occasional Conformity of Dissen- 
ters.' " In the introduction he justifies Ms own con- 
sistency by an appeal to his known moderation of 
sentiment on the subject of the controversies between 



302 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



the Church and the nonconformists; and quotes 
largely from the letter which he had prefixed to his 
u Delighting in God," and which had been pub- 
lished more than twenty years before. He there 
declares, " That he for a long time had had an 
habitual aversion in his own mind, from perplexing 
himself, or disturbing others, by being concerned in 
agitating the controversies that have been on foot 
about the circumstantials of religion ; that he had 
contented himself, by the best means he could be 
furnished with, and the best use God enabled him to 
make of them, so far to form and settle his own judg- 
ment, as was necessary to his own practice ; that he 
had faithfully followed his judgment, and abstained 
in the meantime from censuring others, who took a 
different way from him ; that he was sensible every 
one must give account of himself to God : and that 
it is a great consolation to such as sincerely fear 
God, that if with upright minds they principally 
study to approve themselves to him, and, if they 
mistake, do only err for fear of erring, he will not 
with severity animadvert upon the infirmity of a 
weak and merely misguided judgment." He then 
proceeds to an able and closely reasoned defence 
of the practice on the principles I have already 
explained.* Howe declared at the close of this 

* Walter Wilson, Esq., the learned and laborious author of the "History 
of Dissenting Churches," and the " Life of De Foe," after quoting, in the 
latter work, (vol. ii. , px?. 37, 38, ) jmrt of the above citation from Calamy, says, 
"Notwithstanding the liberality of these sentiments, they were beside the 
question;" as though they were the main arguments on which Howe in- 
sisted. This remark would lead one to suppose, (what I confess from his 
habits of accurate research would be improbable,) that the writer had not 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



303 



pamphlet, that no reply of his adversary should 
provoke him to resume his pen. De Foe, whose 
habits of controversy were inveterate, of course 
replied ; and here the matter ended. 

But though Howe published nothing farther in 
his life-time on this subject, a letter was found 
among his papers, addressed to a noble lord, 
and drawn up with much ability. I here sub- 
join it. 

read the tract of Howe in question ; or, at least, that he had not read it for 
some time. 

If, however, it be true, that the propriety of this practice as respected the 
Church of England, must, after all, be decided by the nature of the ob- 
jections on which the seceder grounds his dissent, that is, by the state 
of the individual conscience; the above remarks are not "beside the 
question, " but most strictly to the purpose. 

Mr. Wilson observes, that in "his controversy with De Foe, Howe gained 
no credit. " I confess myself unable to perceive that he lost any. That his 
pamphlet is written with more severity than is his wont is most true. But 
it must also be confessed that he had considerable provocation. Thus De 
Foe had entitled his pamphlet, " An Inquiry into the Practice of Occasional 
Conformity, in Cases of Preferment ;" evidently intending to insinuate (for 
such a title would have been absurd unless this had been his intention) that 
the conduct of Sir Thomas Abney had been prompted by the basest and 
most sinister motives ; although if he did not know, he might easily have 
ascertained, that it had been the practice of Sir Thomas for many years 
before it was necessary as a qualification for civil office. If in his pamphlet 
he merely intended to refer to known cases (if any there were) in which in- 
dividuals had adopted the practice he condemns from the love of "prefer- 
ment," there was no necessity to appeal to Howe on the subject ; nor indeed 
to discuss it at all ; for such cases none would defend. 

In the same spirit, he had prefixed to his title-page the words, "If the 

Lord be God, follow him; but if Baal, :" evidently implying that it 

was not possible there should exist a condition of conscience in which the 
practice of occasional conformity was compatible with sincerity. These un- 
worthy artifices of the pamphleteer, Howe severely exposes ; as well as the 
illogical assumption, on which De Foe's argument evidently rests ; namely, 
that all the nonconformists seceded from the Church on the same grounds, 
and that each adopted to the full every objection of the rest. This was 
notoriously untrue. 



304 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



"A Letter to a Person of Honour, partly representing the Rise 
of Occasional Conformity, and partly the Sense of the present 
Nonconformists, about their yet continuing Differences from 
the Established Church. 

"My Lord, 

" It is well known to such as have understood 
the state of religion in this kingdom, since the beginning of 
the Reformation, that there have been very different senti- 
ments about the degrees of that reformation itself. Some 
have judged the Church with us so insufficiently reformed, as 
to want as yet the very being of a true Christian church ; and 
wherewith they, therefore, thought it unlawful to have any 
communion at all. Of whom many thereupon, in the several 
successive reigns, withdrew themselves into foreign parts, for 
the enjoyment of the liberty of such worship as they judged 
more agreeable to the word of God. 

" There have been also no inconsiderable numbers, in former 
and later times, that, though not entirely satisfied with our 
reformation, were less severe in their judgment concerning 
the constitution and practice of the Established Church ; that 
is, did not judge its reformation so defective, that they might 
not communicate at all with it, nor so complete but that thev 
ought to covet a communion more strictly agreeable to the 
Holy Scripture ; and, accordingly, apprehended themselves to 
lie under a two-fold obligation of conscience in reference 
hereto. 

" 1. Not, by any means, totally to cut themselves off on the 
one hand from the communion of the Established Church, in 
which they found greater and more momentous things to be 
approved of, and embraced with great reverence and com- 
placency, (namely, all the true noble essentials of Christian 
religion — not subverted, as among the Romanists, by any 
contrary doctrines or practices,) than could be pretended to 
remain the matter of their disapprobation and dislike. 

" 2. "Not, on the other hand, to decline other communion, 
which to the judgment of their conscience appeared, in some 



\ 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



305 



considerable circumstances, more agreeable to the Christian 
rule, and, to their experience, more conducing to their 
spiritual advantage and edification. 

"Which latter judgment of theirs (whether itself justi- 
fiable or no, we are not now considering) hath been with 
many so fixed and inflexible, that, in several successive reigns, 
great numbers of such persons, who, we had no reason to 
apprehend, had any thought totally to abandon the Estab- 
lished Church, yet thought themselves obliged, besides, to 
seek and procure opportunities for such other communions, 
even with extreme peril, not only to their estates and liberties, 
but to their very lives themselves. 

" They could not, therefore, but think both these sorts of 
communions lawful, namely, whereto they might adjoin, but 
not confine themselves. 

" And though to that former sort of communion, there hath, 
for many years by-past, been superadded the accidental con- 
sideration of a place or office attainable hereby, no man can 
allow himself to think, that what he before counted lawful, is 
by this supervening consideration become unlawful — especially 
if the office were such as was in no manner of way to be 
an emolument, but rather an occasion of greater expense 
to the undertaker of it ; that is, only enabled him to serve 
God, the government, and his country, being regularly called 
hereto, in the condition of a justice of peace, or otherwise. In 
which capacity, it is notorious that divers persons, of eminent 
note, of this persuasion, (and some in higher stations,) have, 
within the space of forty years past, and upwards, been ser- 
viceable to the public in divers parts of the nation. 

" It is not, indeed, to be thought, that the judgment and 
practice of such men can be throughout approved by our 
reverend fathers and brethren of the Established Church, as 
neither can we pretend it to be so universally by ourselves. 
But we are remote from any the least suspicion, that persons 
of so excellent worth and Christian temper, as now preside 
over the Established Church, can suffer themselves to judge 



306 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



or censure men of this sentiment, as being for this single 
reason men of hypocritical and insincere minds ; but that they 
will rather think it possible their understandings may be 
imposed upon, so as this may be the judgment, in the whole, 
of a sincere though misinformed conscience. 

" For when they apprehend this church, having all the 
essential parts of Christian religion, has not, by adding some 
much disputed things, that are not pretended to be any parts 
thereof, (but that are become as necessary to communion with 
it as any the most essential part,) thereby unchurched itself, 
but that they may hold communion with it ; yet they do not 
see that they ought to appropriate their communion to it, 
so as to refuse all other communion, where the same essentials 
of Christian religion are to be found, without those additions 
which really belong not to it; they are apt to think such 
sentiments of theirs not to be altogether destitute of some 
plausible ground. 

" However, among those that are not entirely in every 
punctilio of this church, it hath not any so firm friends, or 
that are so nearly united in judgment and affection with it, 
as men of this sentiment. 

" We, for our parts, (who, because in some things we con- 
form not, are called nonconformists, whereas no man conforms 
in everything,) are not allowed to be counted members of this 
church, by those that take denominations, not from the inti- 
mate essentials of things, (as sameness of doctrine, and the 
institutions of Christian worship,) but from loose and very 
separable accidents : yet, thanks be to God, we are not so 
stupid as not to apprehend we are under stricter and much 
more sacred obligations than can be carried under the sound 
of a name, to adhere to those our reverend fathers and 
brethren of the Established Church, who are most united 
among themselves, in duty to God and our Redeemer, in 
loyalty to our sovereign, and in fidelity to the Protestant 
religion, as with whom in this dubious state of things we are 
to run all hazards, and to live and die together. Whether 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



307 



they ' can have the same assurance, both from interest and 
inclination of mind, concerning all that are of the same 
external denomination with themselves, they need not us to 
advise, with. 

" TTe have our yet depending lesser differences, about which 
we have (notwithstanding whatsoever provocation) been gene- 
rally and for the most part silent ; and see not, in reference to 
them, what can further remain, than that we, for our part, do 
consider that all minds are not turned the same way; that 
such from whom we dissent, no further differ from us than we 
do from them ; and we are, therefore, no more to wonder at 
them than ourselves. 

"And we cannot disallow ourselves to hope, that our 
reverend fathers and brethren will conceive of us as 
humbly dissenting from them, without diminution of that 
great reverence which their real worth claims from us, and 
without arrogating anything unduly to ourselves on that 
account. For though we cannot avoid thinking we are 
in the right, in those particular things wherein we differ, 
yet, at the same time, we know ourselves to be far excelled 
by them in much greater and more important things. 
" ATy honoured Lord, 
" Your Lordship's most obedient, hiunble Servant, 

"J. H." 

Hitherto the consciences of the nonconformists 
had been always considered too strict ; their enemies 
finding that " occasional conformity" would enable 
those who could conscientiously practise it, to qualify 
for a civil office, and thus evade the law, now deter- 
mined that they were too lax ; and therefore intro- 
duced the bill against occasional conformity ; * which 
provided that, unless a man maintained constant 
communion with the Establishment, he should be 



308 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



utterly incapacitated for holding any civil office. 
Had this measure become law, the exclusive system 
would have been complete : but, after having passed 
the House of Commons, it was rejected, by a decisive 
majority, in the Lords. While the matter was 
pending, Howe exposed the absurdity of the bill, by 
an ingenious hypothetical case, which will be found 
below.* 

While the Bill against occasional conformity was 
still under discussion, the following characteristic 
incident occurred. As Howe was one day walking 
in St. James's Park, a noble lord, to whom he was 
well known, sent his footman to say that he desired 

* A CASE. 

' ' Two sorts of Christian assemblies are wont to meet, severally, for the 
worship of God, which both hold all the same articles of doctrine taught by 
Christ or his apostles ; and use the same institutions of worship appointed 
by them : only they differ in this, that the one sort use also some rites, not 
so appointed, which the other use not. 

' ' Two gentlemen, Sir T and Sir J , are of equal estates : but Sir 

T lives not so regularly, more seldom comes to the worship of God in 

any Christian assembly; yet, when he doth, resorts only to one of the former 
sort. 

"Sir J is a sober, virtuous person, of approved piety, prudence, 

justice, fortitude, and who publicly worships God, sometimes in the one 
sort of assembly, and sometimes in the other. 

"The question is not, whether some lewd and vicious persons may not 
frequent both sorts of assemblies ; nor whether some sober and pious persons 
may not frequent those of the former sort only. 

' ' But whether Sir J ought to be rendered incapable of serving the 

government (to which he hath constantly expressed himself well affected) in 
any station, civil or military, for this single reason, because he sometimes 
worships God in assemblies of the latter sort ; (whether it be his infelicity, 

ill humour, or mistake, whereof yet he is not convinced ;) while Sir T 

(who is as little convinced of his ill life) is left capable ? At least, if the one 
be incapable, should not both ? 

" But if the question be determined the other way, monstrous ! How will 
that determination of an English parliament stand in the annals of future 
time ? How will wiser posterity blush they had such progenitors ! For can 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



309 



to speak with him. When he came up, his lordship 
saluted him with much cordiality, and told him that 
he was glad to see him. He then entered into con- 
versation on the obnoxious "Bill," which he assured 
Howe "he had opposed to the utmost." Gradually 
getting warm upon the subject, he so far forgot his 
company as to say, " Damn these wretches, for they 
are mad, and will bring us all into confusion." 
Howe calmly replied, "My lord, it is a great satis- 
faction to us, who in all affairs of this nature desire 
to look upwards, that there is a God that governs 
the world, to whom we can leave the issues and 
events of things : and we are satisfied and may 
thereupon be easy, that he will not fail, in due 

it be supposed a nation will be always drunk ? Or if ever it be sober, will it 
not be amazed there ever was a time, when a few ceremonies, of which the 
best thing that ever was said was that they were indifferent, have enough in 
them to outweigh all religion, all morality, all intellectual endowments, 
natural or acquired, which may happen in some instances to be on the wrong 
side, (as it must now be reckoned, ) when, on the other, is the height of pro- 
faneness, and scorn at religion ; the depth of debauchery and brutality, with 
half a wit, hanging between sense and nonsense : only to cast the balance 
the more creditable way, there is the skill to make a leg, to dance to a 
fiddle, nimbly to change gestures, and give a loud response, which contain 
the answer for the villanies of an impure life ! 

"If those little pieces of church-modishness have so much in them of 
real value, in all these are they not well enough paid by the whole Church 
revenues of England, without stigmatizing everybody that so much admires 
them not ? 

' ' And while divers of real worth live upon charity, some with difficulty 
getting, others (educated to modesty) with greater difficulty begging their 
bread ! 

' ' But do those who are not contented to engross all the legal emoluments, 
think there is no God in heaven, that knows their large promises, at the 
beginning of this revolution, of great abatements in their Church constitu- 
tion ; when now, without abating one hair, they must have all conform to it 
in every punctilio, or be (as much as in them is) made infamous, and the 
scorn of the nation ? " 



310 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



time, of making a suitable retribution to all, accord- 
ing to their present carriage. And this great Ruler 
of the world, my lord, has among other things also 
declared, he w r ill make a difference between him 
that swear eth, and him that feareth an oath." His 
lordship was struck with Howe's reply, and after a 
pause said, " Sir, I thank you for your freedom; I 
understand your meaning, I shall endeavour to make 
a good use of it." Howe adroitly answered, " My 
lord, I have a great deal more reason to thank your 
lordship, for saving me the most difficult part of a 
discourse, which is the application." 

In 1702, Howe published the second part of his 
great work, u The Living Temple." It is dedicated 
to William Lord Pagett, Baron of Beaudesert, in the 
county of Stafford.* In this year, he also published 
a funeral sermon for the Rev. Peter Vink. 

In 1702 and 1703, Howe seems to have been in a 
very shattered state of health, but had lost nothing 
of his vigour of mind. On the 5th of November of 
the latter year, he preached a striking sermon, which 
was afterwards published, from the words, "Who 
hath delivered us from the power of darkness, and 
hath translated us into the kingdom of his dear 
Son." 

I shall conclude this chapter with an exquisite 
letter of condolence " on the loss of an excellent 
wife." It is preserved in Calamy's Life ; but it 
bears no date, nor can it now be ascertained to 

* This nobleman was the seventh Baron Pagett, and succeeded to the 
title in 1678. He distinguished himself by a splendid embassy to Constan- 
tinople. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



311 



whom it was addressed. The close is surpassingly 
beautiful. 

TO A FRIEND, ON THE LOSS OF AN EXCELLENT WIFE. 

" I seriously lament your new affliction, whereof I lately 
had the surprising account. And I should be the more con- 
cerned for it, if I did not consider it hath befallen one who 
can with judgment estimate and suffer it. He hath enough 
to relieve him against the ungrateful events which our 
present state is liable to, who is serious in the belief of God's 
universal government over this world, and that there is 
another. The former of these is a principle much abused by 
some ; which no more proves it false than the gospel, out of 
which some have the mischievous skill to extract a deadly 
savour. It is our great privilege, for which we ought to be 
thankful, that by such arguments whereby we can most 
certainly demonstrate to ourselves that there is a God, we 
can as certainly prove that he is not an Epicurean God ; 
unto which imaginary idol only that could belong, ' to be 
disturbed by being concerned about human affairs/ But if 
He knew the true nature of God better, who came forth from 
him into our world, on purpose to make him known, we are 
sufficiently assured, not a hair can fall from our head without 
him, much less so considerable a part of ourselves. 

" This is not the state wherein things are to be unexcep- 
tionably well. But we have cause, as things are, to acknow- 
ledge and adore the wisdom and goodness of Providence, that 
the wickedness of the world hath not in so many thousand 
years quite confounded families, and all human society, long 
ago : but that as wise counsel did first settle the institution 
of those lesser societies, God hath from age to age renewed 
the impression of that part among others of the law of 
nature, by which men are prompted as by instinct to preserve 
them ; besides the positive precept he hath given, setting out 
to each relative the duty whereby order is to be preserved in 
them. And when we know his government extends so low, 



312 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



how gladly ought we to submit ourselves to it, and allow hhn. 
to determine how long we should enjoy such relatives, as well 
as that there should be any such. For we know that they 
were appointed but for this temporary estate, not for that 
wherein we are to be as the angels of Grod in heaven, where 
each one hath a subordinate self-sufficiency, and needs not 
the meet helps which the exigency of this state makes so 
useful. And therefore the reason, as well as the authority of 
such precepts, is most entirely to be subscribed to, that 
because the time is short, they that have wives be as though 
they had none ; they that rejoice, (in having them,) as if 
they rejoiced not ; they that weep, (in losing them,) as 
though they wept not. So our affections will correspond to 
the objects which are of the same make ; for the fashion of 
this world passeth away. And it were a gloomy thought to 
consider all as passing and vanishing, if we did not seriously 
believe, that it vanishes to make way for another, that shall 
never vanish, and that shall shortly enter in its perfect glory, 
and fill up the whole stage. Scaffolds are taken down when 
the eternal building is finished." 



CHAPTER XL 



FROM 1704 TO 1705. 

howe's last illness — state of mind — death — extract from his 
will— his person — analysls of his character. 

At the close of 1704, it was obvious to his friends 
that Howe was fast approaching the term of all his 
toils and sufferings, His constitution had long been 
crumbling under a complication of maladies ; and no 
new and violent form of disease was necessary to 
complete the work of destruction. " The earthly- 
house of his tabernacle " was already tottering. 

His decline was so slow, that, feeble as he was, he 
did not entirely relinquish his public duties till a 
very short time before his death. The peculiar cir- 
cumstances under which these his last services were 
performed, rendered them in the highest degree 
solemn and imposing. His now intensely vivid per- 
ceptions of Divine truth, and of approaching glory, 
imparted such preternatural vigour to his mind, 
that he sometimes seemed completely to triumph 
over all the infirmities of nature. Once, in par- 
ticular, at the communion, he was rapt into such 



314 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



an ecstasy of joy and peace, that both himself and 
his audience thought he would have died under the 
strength of his emotions. It seemed as though, in 
that entranced and earnest gaze on the already 
opening glories of the heavenly world, the strug- 
gling spirit would have broken the feeble tie which 
was all that bound it to earth and time. 

In the spring of 1705, and only a very few weeks 
before his death, he sent to the press the last thing 
he ever published; and nothing surely, under his 
present circumstances, could have been more appro- 
priate. It was entitled, " On Patience in Expecta- 
tion of Future Blessedness ; " a virtue, alas ! which 
few find it difficult to practise. The generality of 
Christians bear the sentence of prolonged exclusion 
from heaven with most exemplary endurance. With 
Howe the case was different; like the apostle, "he 
desired to depart, and to be with Christ." He was 
weary of a world of sorrow and of sin, and longed 
to be at home and at rest. 

His death, gradual in its approach, and long fore- 
seen, was such as might be expected from the 
character of his mind, and the calm tenor of his 
life. He was a total stranger to the raptures into 
which some have been transported in that hour, and 
equally so to those alternations of light and dark- 
ness, of hope and dread, which now raise the soul to 
the very gate of heaven, and now fill it with despair. 
He was full of joy and hope; but it was joy 
and hope serene and unfaltering. This, of all the 
states of mind in which the Christian can meet the 
dying hour, is surely the most enviable ; the most 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



315 



satisfactory to himself, and the most impressive to 
spectators. Such deep, solemn tranquillity of soul 
at such a moment, is the surest evidence of the 
reality of religious character, and best illustrates the 
power of religious truth. It can in no degree be 
attributed to a fictitious source ; to the illusions of a 
perturbed imagination, or to that morbid excitement 
which disease will now and then impart to the in- 
tellect, and which resembles the delirious splendour 
which it can sometimes kindle in the eye. 

Howe continued to receive the visits of his friends 
after he was confined to his chamber ; and, as they 
frequently declared, he addressed them more like 
one who was already an inhabitant of the heavenly 
world, than as " a man of like passions with them- 
selves ; " rather as a messenger from the skies, than 
as one who was just departing on his journey 
thither: so stedfast, so assured was his hope, so 
full of tranquil certainty. To him, indeed, the 
scenes he was about to visit could hardly be said to 
be in a " strange land." They had become fami- 
liarized by the vivid exercise of that faith which 
penetrates the invisible and eternal world. Those 
visions of faith seemed now brighter than ever. 
Like the Jewish legislator, he died on Mount Nebo, 
with the glittering scenes of the " better country " 
spread out beneath his feet. 

Amongst others who came to see him a short time 
before his death, was Richard Cromwell, now, like 
himself, far advanced in years. He came to pay his 
old friend and servant a visit of respect and of 
affectionate farew T ell. The interview, if we may 

p 2 



316 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



judge either from the character of the men, or 
the brief account which Calamy has given us of it, 
must have been peculiarly affecting. He tells us, 
" There was a great deal of serious discourse be- 
tween them ; tears were freely shed on both sides ; 
and the parting was very solemn, as I have been 
informed by one that was present on the occasion." 

That Howe was among the few who needed 
" patience in the expectation of future blessedness," 
is shown in the following incident. He once told 
his wife, that " though he thought he loved her as 
well as it was fit for one creature to love another ; 
yet if it were put to his choice, whether to die that 
moment, or to live that night, and the living that 
night would secure the continuance of his life for 
seven years to come, he would choose to die that 
moment." 

One morning, finding himself much better than 
could have been expected after the severe sufferings 
of the preceding evening, he became remarkably 
cheerful. One of his attendants noticed it ; upon 
which he made the characteristic reply, that "he 
was for feeling that he was alive, though most willing 
to die and lay the clog of mortality aside." 

In those " considerations, and communings" with 
himself, which he committed to paper just before he 
left Antrim, and which have been already laid before 
the reader, he tells us that he dreaded " sharp pains 
more than death." This was exemplified in his last 
illness. His son, Dr. George Howe, a physician, 
having, without apprising him of his intention, 
lanced his father's leg (part of which was already 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



317 



gangrened), Howe asked " what he was doing; 



It appears from a passage in Matthew Henry's 



had been long expected, hopes were again enter- 



following Monday, April 2, 1705, he expired with- 



He was buried in the parish church of All- 
hallows, Bread-street ; and his funeral sermon was 
preached on the following Sabbath, by his beloved 
friend and coadjutor, Mr. John Spademan. The 
text was, " But continue thou in the things which 
thou hast learned, and hast been assured of, knowing 
of whom thou hast learned them. 77 * 

* The commencement of his will (which has been preserved by Calamy, 
and, as he truly remarks, is a noble confession of his faith) is as follows : — 

" I, John Howe, minister of the gospel of Christ, in serious consideration 
(though, through God's mercy, in present health) of my frail and mortal 
state, and cheerfully waiting (blessed be God) for a seasonable unfeared disso- 
lution of this my earthly tabernacle, and translation of the inhabitant spiri 
into the merciful hands of the great God, Creator, Lord of heaven and earth, 
whom I have taken to be my God, in and with his only begotten Son, J esus 
Christ, who is also over all, GOD blessed for ever, and my dear and glorious 
Redeemer and LORD ; with and by the Holy Spirit of grace, my light, life, 
and joy; relying entirely and alone upon the free and rich mercy of the 
Father, vouchsafed on the account of the most invaluable sacrifice and perfect 
righteousness of the Son, applied unto me, according to the gospel covenant, 
by the Spirit, for the pardon of the many seriously repented sins of a very 
faulty fruitless life, and the acceptance of my person, with my sincere 
though weak desires and endeavours to do him service in this world, espe^ 
cially as my calling wherewith he graciously honoured me, did more parti- 
cularly require, in promoting the welfare and salvation of the precious souls 
of men. " 







318 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



I proceed to give a brief description of his person, 
and an analysis of his character. 

Howe's external appearance was such as served to 
exhibit to the greatest advantage his rare intellectual 
and moral endowments. His stature was lofty, his 
aspect commanding, and his manner an impressive 
union of ease and dignity. His countenance — the 
expression of which is at once so sublime and so 
lovely, so fall both of majesty of thought and purity 
of feeling — is best understood by the portrait. It is 
(to use the language of Gregory Nyssen in refer- 
ence to Basil) BXe^iia r<o tov(o rrjs xfrvx/js lvT€iv6\ievov, 
u a countenance attuned to harmony with the 
mind." 

What Howe said of Bates (in the celebrated 
funeral sermon) might be said with still greater 
truth of himself ; that he was " wrought i luto 
meliore? of better, or more accurately figured and 
finer-turned clay." Calamy, who knew him well, 
tells us that, " as to his person, he was very tall 
and exceeding graceful. He had a good presence, 
and a piercing, but pleasant eye ; and there tuas that 
in his holes and carriage, that discovered that he had 
something within that was uncommonly great, and tended 
to excite veneration" 

If it w^ere asked, what was the characteristic pecu- 
liarity of Howe, we should probably not err in 
replying, that it consisted in the complete absence 
of all ordinary peculiarities ; in that exquisite har- 
mony of all the faculties, which is the rarest and yet 
the noblest perfection of our nature ; the harmony 



\ 



LIFE OF HOAVE. 



319 



of a mind, all whose powers are capacious, yet none 
out of proportion to the rest. 

The tendencies of Howe's mind, it is true, were all 
of the noblest kind ; to the abstract and subtle in 
the department of reason ; to the lofty and sublime 
in that of imagination : and to the pure and elevated 
in that of sentiment : but all this, though sufficient 
to invest his whole character with peculiar majesty, 
did not prevent (as too often happens with exalted 
genius") the development of the inferior faculties, or 
unfit him for a graceful and punctual discharge of 
the practical duties of life. The only perceptible 
difference in this point, between him and others, 
was. that he sustained the ordinary relations of life 
with unusual dignity. 

Most of those characters which have won the 
admiration of mankind, have been marked by a 
peculiar in dk '{duality, resulting from the dispropor- 
tionate, and. in some cases, enormous development 
of some master-faculty. In Bacon, it is true, we are- 
dazzled by a constellation of almost all intellectual 
excellencies ; yet even in him, the philosophic tem- 
perament was so prevailingly strong, as to throw 
into comparative shade his other vast endow- 
ments ; endowments which, if they can be con- 
sidered secondary at all, are so only in him. In 
Edwards we see the utmost logical acuteness ; in 
Barrow, wonderful comprehensiveness ; in Jeremy 
Taylor, the utmost opulence of imagination ; in 
Milton, its utmost sublimitv. In all these, and 
many other minds, the glare of some overpowering 
faculty makes the rest shine with feeble light, and, 



320 LIFE OF HOWE. 

in some cases, nearly quenches them altogether. 
But from the calm firmament of Howe's mind 
shine forth all the various faculties of the soul, each 
with its allotted tribute of light, and with a serene 
and solemn lustre. u One star," it is true, " differ- 
eth from another star in glory ; " but none extinguish 
or eclipse the rest. 

That disproportionate development of some par- 
ticular faculty, which almost uniformly distinguishes 
great genius, is in general, we must admit, far more 
desirable, in a world like this, than a more har- 
monious adjustment of all its powers. By the 
mingling of the several elements of mental strength 
in different proportions, that endless variety, which 
is so characteristic of all the works of God, is kept 
up in the world of intellect; just as the ten thou- 
sand phenomena of the physical world all flow from 
the infinitely diversified inter-action of a few ele- 
mentary principles. 

None can doubt that, for a world like ours, such a 
conformation of mind is the most useful that can 
be imagined. Since all progress depends upon a 
minute division of labour; since we must be con- 
tented with less than absolute excellence, even when 
the whole powers of the mind are concentrated on a 
single point, and unremittingly exerted there ; and 
since all can be happy only by each pursuing a 
different path to happiness ; how necessary was it 
that every facility should be afforded for determin- 
ing men's minds to different objects ! This is 
effectually done by the prominence generally given 
to some one faculty. No sooner is the mind exposed 



LIFE OF HOWE, 321 

to the various influences of active life, than this 
faculty, like the senses, finds an appropriate sphere 
of action provided for it. 

If it be so rare to meet with a mind originally 
characterized by that harmonious adjustment of all 
its powers, which we have described as the peculiar 
excellence of John Howe ; still more rare is it to 
meet with such a mind, when time has laid his touch 
upon it. Some disturbing forces almost inevitably 
destroy the equilibrium ; the influence of circum- 
stances determines its tastes and habits exclusively 
to some particular pursuits. 

But though an unequal distribution of the mental 
faculties is necessary in a world like ours, and 
ordained for the wisest purposes, it is not in itself a 
perfection. It is true that such an exaggeration (if 
I may so speak) of some mental feature is more 
likely to attract the attention of mankind. This, 
however, is owing to the limitation of our faculties. 
Men, in general, are incapable of appreciating the 
more complicated forms of mental beauty. While the 
most unpractised ear, possessing any susceptibility 
for music at all, can enjoy some simple melody, how 
much knowledge, taste, and sensibility does it 
require, thoroughly to appreciate the complicated 
excellence of the compositions of a Handel or a 
Mozart, — 

" To untwist all the chains that tie 
The hidden soul of harmony ! " 

To this strange passion for mutilated beauty, the 
world abundantly ministers, since, in the loveliest 
scenes of nature, as well as the least imperfect 

p 3 



322 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



specimens of intellect, we discern only a few of the 
scattered elements of beauty and of excellence ; 
some of the lineaments are sure to be wanting. 

But, to a superior being, capable of admiring the 
higher and more complicated forms of intellectual 
beauty, the overshadowing greatness of some par- 
ticular faculty probably appears an imperfection ; 
he may look upon it just as we look upon the re- 
markable exaggeration of some feature of the face — 
as a real deformity. The perfection of animal 
existence consists in the acuteness of all the senses, 
not in the unusual perfection of one to balance the 
defects of another. It is no adequate compensation 
to the deaf, that in general the eyesight of such is 
unusually penetrating. As man sustains such various 
relations both to Grod, to himself, and to the uni- 
verse, that conformation of mind is the most perfect, 
which enables him to bring all his faculties into play 
upon their appropriate objects, with .equal power and 
flexibility. 

If it be so rare to meet with an individual whose 
mental faculties are thus admirably adjusted, the 
probabilities are greatly multiplied against our 
meeting them conjoined with the far higher quali- 
ties of religious and moral excellence. Who does 
not sigh over the frailties which, as they recur 
to the mind, cast their dark shadows over the 
otherwise bright disk of Bacon ; and trouble, " as 
with a dim eclipse," the feelings of pure delight 
with which we were hailing and rejoicing in his 
beams ? And even when no deep stain rests upon 
the character, how rarely has genius been ade- 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



32S 



quately alive to the more elevated species of moral 
greatness ! How often has it lived for nothing 
better than selfish knowledge, or a still more selfish 
reputation ! How seldom has it consecrated its 
endowments, with a distinct feeling that this was its 
highest honour, to the glory of God and to the 
welfare of man ! Yet, every now and then, just to 
illustrate the power of God, to show how his grace 
can ennoble our nature, to shame prostituted genius, 
to u adorn the doctrine " of Christ by proving that the 
most perfect specimens of humanity can count it their 
highest glory to do homage to the gospel, there 
appears, upon our world, some mind in which 
the various elements of excellence harmoniously 
meet, and are wrought into an exquisite form of 
beauty and of grandeur : a mind which, enjoying 
the happiest conformation of the mental and moral 
powers of which our imperfect and depraved nature 
is capable, and favoured with all the advantages of 
finished cultivation and a long and various discipline, 
is early subjected to the transforming and purifying 
power of Divine grace, beneath whose expansive 
and benign influences it is seen, even while on 
earth, almost u putting off its mortality," and visibly 
ripening for the paradise of God. Such a mind was 
that of Howe. 

His intellect was one of the few which conjoined 
in almost equal measure the highest attributes of the 
philosophical character ; it was equally comprehen- 
sive and- acute, possessed both of great range and 
great subtlety. These qualities cannot fail to strike * 
any reader of his more elaborate works. 



324 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



In his " Living Temple/' in which he pursues 
Atheism through all the tortuous windings of its 
dark and subtle sophistry; in his "Treatise on the 
Divine Prescience," in which he has penetrated as 
far, perhaps, as ever was given to man, into that 
dusky region which skirts the confines both of the 
Calvinistic and Arminian systems; in his "Letters 
on the Trinity," a subject on which it is one of the 
highest achievements of a merely mortal mind not 
to fail, and to fail disgracefully, — the generality of 
those who have presumptuously attempted to lift the 
veil from that great mystery, having been scathed 
and blasted by the ineffable vision, — in all these 
works, as well as in many of his sermons, any one 
capable of appreciating John Howe, will concede 
to him metaphysical acumen, little, if at all, inferior 
to that of Locke ; a power of continuous and patient 
abstraction, and of searching, subtle analysis, which 
leaves no part of a subject unexplored. Indeed, he 
sometimes almost seems to accumulate difficulties, 
especially in the first part of his discourses, for the 
mere pleasure of demolishing them. 

The judgment of Howe was such as might be 
expected from such qualities of intellect ; and ren- 
dered yet more sound, by the fact that his noble 
qualities of intellect were conjoined with a moral 
temperament most enviably equable and serene. 

In confirmation of the above remarks, it is suffi- 
cient to mention the following facts :- — 

His writings display a remarkable exemption 
from theological paradox and extravagance of all 
kinds. There is hardly a sentiment in the many volumes 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



325 



which he has left behind him } which one would wish to 
blot out. 

They display in an equal degree an abstinence 
from what is the chief source of theological paradox, 
(especially to a bold and excursive inind,) unhal- 
lowed and presumptuous speculation. 

His work on the " Trinity," the only publication 
in which there is even an approach to this audacious 
style of speculation, displays such a deep sense of 
the inexplicable mystery and awful grandeur of the 
subject, so much modesty and caution, such uncom- 
mon sobriety of mind, as effectually to shield him 
from the charge of dogmatism or presumption. 
Indeed, he seems to have written in the same 
cautious spirit which afterwards dictated the im- 
mortal " Analogy" of Butler. His principal aim 
appears to be, to show the too confident Unitarian, as 
that of the other was to show the too confident Deist, 
that "it is not so a clear thing" (to use the quaint 
language of Butler) " that there is nothing in it ; " 
and that though (when the question is removed from 
the authoritative ground of Scripture) the orthodox 
cannot pretend to demonstrate that the doctrine of the 
Trinity is true, the heterodox would find it equally 
impossible to prove it to be false. 

To refrain from pushing speculation too far, espe- 
cially when such self-control is conjoined with that 
originality and inventive power of genius, which 
would seem to promise success, (if success be pos- 
sible at all,) is in itself an indication of the highest 
style of mind. It is the prerogative of great genius, 
and of that alone, to know its limits ; to understand 



326 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



what Locke calls "the length of its line/' and to feel 
that there are numberless " depths in the ocean 
which it cannot fathom." Such men, by a sort of 
instinct, seem to discern the limitations which the 
Supreme himself has put upon the human mind, and 
which shut it in as between walls of adamant ; and 
seeing this, they cease to exhaust their energies 
(bestowed for practically useful purposes) in vainly 
beating against the bars of their prison. 

In his acute analysis of Robert Hall's mind, 
Mr. Foster mentions this same reverential silence on 
the subject of mysteries, as characteristic of that 
great man. While he acquiesces in the wisdom of 
such silence, he seems, with the love of speculation 
inseparable from a highly original and inventive 
mind, almost to regret u that Mr. Hall did not 
allow himself in some degree of exception." Mr. 
Foster's observations on this subject form one of 
the most beautiful parts of that noble piece of cri- 
ticism. 

Of the difference between first and second rate 
minds, in this point, there is an amusing instance in 
Bos well's " Life of Johnson." I do not recollect to 
have ever seen the passage cited to that end, and yet 
it is, in truth, the most exquisite specimen of Boswell- 
ism in the book. Speaking of the sensitiveness, or 
rather horror, with which Johnson avoided the dis- 
cussion of the subject of predestination, Boswell 
says, "He avoided the question which has excru- 
ciated philosophers and divines beyond any other. 
. . . . Lie was confined by a chain, which early 
imagination and long habit made him think massy 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



827 



and strong, but to hich, had he ventured to try, he could 
have snapt asunder" Boswell was incapable of 
seeing what Johnson saw plainly enough, the insur- 
mountable difficulties of the question. Johnson 
evidently possessed, in a high degree, the peculiarity 
of mind which I have attributed to Howe. No one 
can read his celebrated " Review of Soame Jenyns 
on the Origin of Evil," without being convinced 
of it. He could demolish with ease the flimsy 
hypotheses which others have constructed to solve 
that great mystery, but was too discreet to con- 
struct one of his own. 

This very uncommon sobriety of judgment (mani- 
fested through life, and in every relation) is the 
more extraordinary, when we consider the times in 
which Howe lived, and the scenes in which he 
moved. He was one of Cromwell's chaplains, be it 
remembered. He lived in a period of unparalleled 
excitement, and with those upon whom that excite- 
ment acted most strongly; a time in which com- 
paratively few quite escaped the contagion of fana- 
ticism. 

Some obliquities of judgment, or some rash specu- 
lation, or an enthusiastic mode of interpreting public 
events and the designs of Providence, or (where 
there was none of these) some extravagancies of 
manner, showed, almost every where, how the 
temper of the times had destroyed the equipoise 
even of the best-regulated minds. The lightest 
barque can keep its way in calm weather ; but it 
must demand very uncommon ballast to steady the 
vessel in times like those of the civil wars and the 



328 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



Commonwealth. The majestic mind of Howe rode 
out the storm. 

Another proof of the judgment of Howe, as well 
as of that harmony of mind of which I have so 
often spoken, was his exemption from those eccen- 
tricities, as they are called, which are so often asso- 
ciated with exalted genius, and which generally 
display themselves, either in a contempt for I ittle 
things, — which are often of sufficient importance, 
however, to affect seriously the convenience of 
others,- — or in some ludicrous peculiarities of ap- 
pearance or manner. These are sometimes the 
effect of sincere negligence ; and, perhaps, quite as 
frequently of affectation. To be forgiven,— in con- 
sideration of the nobler qualities which they may ob- 
scure, but assuredly cannot enhance, — is the utmost 
that ought to be demanded for them. Yet, strange 
to say, they are often the objects of admiring 
wonder, and even of sedulous imitation, to the fools 
who imagine, that because genius is often eccentric, 
eccentricities will establish a claim to genius. Now 
such eccentricities are, at best, infirmities, and not 
excellences ; and in proportion as a mind is more 
perfect, in that proportion will it avoid them : it will 
not only think nothing beneath its attention which 
ought to be attended to, but be capable of adapting 
itself to the various demands of life, whether great 
or little, with Protean facility. 

The imagination of Howe was such as might be 
expected from that harmonious and mutually sub- 
servient adjustment of all the faculties of his mind, 
which I have represented as his prime excellence. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



329 



It was powerful and active, but not dispropor- 
tionately so ; lights up the page with a sober 
lustre, but never dazzles the reader ; never seduces 
him into a forgetfulness of the argument. As 
regards the measure of its exercise, it is always 
under strict discipline. It is used, not abused; 
employed, as the imagination ought to be employed, 
to illustrate truth, not to overlay and encumber it with 
superfluous ornament. But the uncommon novelty, 
as well as beauty and grandeur of many of his 
illustrations, show, that of the two, Howe rather 
restrained than tasked its energies. That it was 
generally employed within such just limits, — not in 
excess, yet sufficiently, — is principally to be attri- 
buted to his being always engrossed with his subject. 
This absorption of mind is sure to stimulate the 
imagination enough to make it supply spontaneously 
those illustrations which will render a writer's 
meaning either more clear or more impressive, but 
leaves little leisure to search for curious or elaborate 
ornament, and this is just the position which the 
imagination ought to occupy. 

The character of his imagination was in strict 
keeping with the general complexion of his mind. 
It was sublime rather than beautiful. Indeed, 
there are not a few passages in his writings, which 
would almost sustain comparison with some of the 
finest passages of Milton's prose works. It is true 
that the imagination of Howe does not possess the 
opulence and vastness of Milton's; but it is also 
true that such qualities would have disturbed that 
balance of all the mental faculties which distin- 



330 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



guished Howe, and which required that his reason 
and his judgment should be as superior in vigour 
and accuracy to those of Milton, as the ima- 
gination of the latter was superior to that of the 
former. 

Nor is it simply in the character of the imagina- 
tion that these two great minds resembled one 
another ; they resembled one another in elevation 
generally. There is, however, this remarkable 
difference between them. Howe's sublimity is 
uniformly that of sentiment, never that of passion ; 
he is always calm and self-possessed. In conse- 
quence, we never see in him those bursts of im- 
passioned feeling, with which the sublimest exer- 
cises of Milton's imagination are sometimes accom- 
panied ; that SewoVrjs, as the Greeks were wont to term 
it, which is perpetually flashing out in his prose 
writings. The heavenly placidity, the habitual 
repose of Howe's mind, were quite incompatible 
with such a display of the combined energies of 
intellect and passion; his spirit was u sphered " 
in too lofty and serene a region for it. The 
clouds and tempests in which the mighty spirit 
of Milton careered during the troubled period of 
his political life, rolled far beneath Howe. Still, 
in the loftiness of his conceptions, as well as 
occasionally in the majestic rhythm, the stately 
and dignified march of his sentences, the critical 
reader will detect no inconsiderable resemblance 
to Milton. I could illustrate my meaning by many 
noble passages from his " Living Temple;" but I 
shall content myself by referring to the celebrated 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



331 



description of the " human soul in ruins in which 
he pours forth his sublime, but melancholy musings, 
amidst the still magnificent remains of that once 
glorious dwelling of Deity. 

Few men, however, possessed of so fine an 
imagination, have exhibited it to so little advantage. 
I do not speak merely of the mean and unseemly 
attire in which he has often clothed his noble con- 
ceptions : to this I shall advert presently. I now 
refer to the incongruities of thought, which so often 
impair the beauty of his finest illustrations, — to his 
broken metaphors, and his trivial allusions. Seldom 
has there been a criticism more just than that of 
Robert Hall — that a there was in Howe an innate 
inaptitude for discerning minute graces and pro- 
prieties." It is true that we sometimes meet with 
an image, not only surpassingly sublime and beauti- 
ful, but nobly sustained throughout. This, however, 
is comparatively rare. Such are his defects of taste, 
that his writings present us with few, if any passages 
of considerable length, that are not sadly enfeebled by 
the want of keeping and harmony. 

These faidts are aggravated by the extreme 
poverty of his diction, and ruggedness of his style. 
Such limited powers of expression, indeed, have 
seldom, if ever, been associated with so much opulence 
and grandeur of intellect. He not only dispenses 
with every elegance, but often degrades the noblest 
thoughts by the meanest phraseology. 

The defects of which I am now speaking — I mean 
of diction and of style — affect, of course, not 
merely the exercises of his imagination, but those of 



332 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



his intellect generally. It may be said of all his 
conceptions, that they seldom have justice done 
them. The soil of his mind was abundantly 
fertile, and poured forth its productions with 
all the wealth and spontaneity of nature, but 
with all her negligence and wildness too. Slight 
indeed are the traces of cultivation. He constantly 
writes with the air of a man who has much to say, 
but is nearly indifferent as to how it is said. His 
thoughts and illustrations, generally, are clothed in 
attire so coarse and mean, that, if a certain innate 
grandeur and majesty did not proclaim their origin, 
we should never suspect them to belong to the rank 
and family of genius. 

The toils of revision, on which elaborate excellence 
always depends, were generally neglected by the 
writers of that day ; but Howe, it must be confessed, 
must have been far more negligent than were some 
of his contemporaries. 

But though his power, generally, is greatly 
impaired by his gross deficiencies of taste and 
expression, it is his imagination which suffers most 
from them. This, indeed, must always be the case, 
as the imagination, more than any other mental 
faculty, depends for producing its due effect on the 
graces of language. A poverty of expression, a 
ruggedness of style, which might be borne in pure 
argument, may almost ruin the effect of poetical 
illustration. 

With respect to diction, Howe's defects may be 
attributed in great part, no doubt, to negligence, but, 
I think, in still greater measure, to his very limited 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



333 



command of language. Thus, though we may often 
find solitary expressions singularly beautiful and 
original, he never sustains this excellence of diction 
beyond a minute or two. He almost immedi- 
ately falls back into his ordinary baldness of phrase- 
ology. 

If we pass from his diction to the structure of his 
composition, we find faults equally glaring. He is 
almost universally rugged and unmusical; full of 
involution, parenthesis, and awkward transposition. 
What was said of his diction may be said of his 
style. Though we occasionally meet with sentences 
full of majesty and rhythm, they scarcely ever 
extend beyond a short paragraph. His excellencies 
seem happy accidents ; his faults and negligences 
are systematic and habitual. 

As though the above defects of style were not 
sufficient, he has adopted a mode of punctuation as 
absurd as can possibly be conceived, and for which, 
so far as I at this moment can recollect, he had no 
adequate apology in the fashions of the age. He 
actually often comes to a full stop in the very career 
of his sentences, and fairly throws the luckless reader 
who is not acquainted with this vice of the author. 
In numberless instances, he has divided one com- 
plete sentence into not less than three or four 
periods. It is a great pity that the editors, even the 
modern editors, of Howe's writings have, in a great 
many cases, followed but too faithfully this eccentric 
system of punctuation. A complete revision, in this 
respect, would have rendered his writings abun- 
dantly more perspicuous, and tended greatly to abate 



334 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



that disgust which often besets the reader who for 
the first time sits down to their perusal. 

On the whole, it may be said that very few 
writers have been less indebted for their reputation 
to language or style, than John Howe ; if, indeed, 
we might not rather say, that his deficiencies in 
these respects have seriously lessened and impaired 
it ; and that he has attained his present eminence 
not only without the aid, but in spite of the want, 
of such auxiliaries. 

In these respects Howe presents a striking contrast 
to another of his great contemporaries : I mean 
Bates. I cannot but think that excellent man is 
mainly (I am far from saying wholly) indebted for 
his considerable reputation to the studied prettinesses 
of his style and diction. These, I regret to say, 
often appear so artificial, that the reader cannot help 
suspecting he is trying to sparkle. He is perpetually 
displaying the rings on his fingers. At the same 
time, it must be confessed, that his style is distin- 
guished by great elegance and polish, when com- 
pared with that of Howe, or even of his contempo- 
raries generally. 

Unless the modern reader be fairly forewarned of 
the defects of style and manner which characterize 
not only the writings of John Howe, but those of 
many of his great contemporaries, he will be likely 
to turn away from them with disgust ; and even if 
he be so forewarned, must expect to relish them only 
after repeated perusal. He must learn to look at 
what is sublime and beautiful in thought itself, 
abstracted from the forms of elegance and beauty in 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



335 



which he lias often seen them embodied. Manv 
have been so little accustomed to this effort of mind, 
have been so long habituated to look on the metal 
onlv after it has passed through the refining tires of 
the furnace, that they cannot admire the veins of 
precious ore which enrich the pages of our author. 

And even those who do peruse his writings are 
liable, for want of such an attempt to rectify their 
judgment, to underrate most grossly his intellectual 
greatness. They understand him, it is true : but 
half the grandeur and beauty of his conceptions is 
lost upon them.* 

* There seems something so paradoxical in the view here presented, not 
indeed of the inferiority of Howe's powers as a writer to his powers as a 
thinker, (for that mnst be obvious to every intelligent reader. ) but in the 
degree in which it is here alleged to exist, that some might be disposed to 
demur to the strong language I have usrd. It certainly does seem strange, 
that one to whom such opulence and splendour of imagination are ascribed, 
should have wielded the great instrument of language with so little power, 
flexibility, and grace. I feel incHned, therefore, to fortify my own criticisms, 
by citing, though not for this reason only, the judgment of one who, in the 
little circle in which he was known— now, alas ! growing every day less 
and less — was justly regarded as no slight authority. I allude to my be- 
loved friend, J. M. Mackenzie, MJL, whose sudden death, encoimtered so 
heroically in the wreck 01 the Pegasus, off the e< >ast of Xorthumberland. nearly 
twenty years ago. excited a thrill of sympathy and admiration throughout 
the kingdom. His talents were of the most varied and brilliant order, and 
his knowledge more accurate and extensive than I almost ever saw in 
any one man. His versatility was such, that it enabled him to master 
almost everything to which he chose to apply himself : and his prodigious 
memory, which I never saw equalled, except in the case of the late lamented 
Lord Macaulay, and not surpassed even in him. enabled him to retain all 
he acquired. To knowledge, extensive and profound, of classical literature, 
he added an equally extensive and profound acquaintance with every depart- 
ment of our own. His critical judgment and acumen were such as to entitle any 
opinion of his to much weight. Among some fragmentary shorthand notes of 
his on a few of our English preachers, which lately fell into my hands, I find the 
following remarks on John Howe : in which he expresses, as strongly as I have 
done, the singrdar contrast between Howe's noble intellectual endowments 
and their inadequate exhibition in his works. I have pleasure in citing these 



336 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



That Howe was not totally destitute of wit, suffi- 
ciently appears from some instances of it recorded in 
the present volume, as well as from a few passages 
in his writings. It deserves to be considered, 
however, as the least conspicuous feature in his 
intellectual character. 

The severe rebukes which occasionally, and after 
much provocation, he could administer to extreme 
malignity and folly, would serve to show that he 
could have employed sarcasm with considerable 
effect ; and that the almost perfect freedom from 
everything of the kind, by which his controversial 
writings are so honourably distinguished from those 

remarks, not only for their own sake, but as it gives me the opportunity of 
thus honouring the memory of one who well deserves not to be forgotten. 

"John Howe is, indeed, clarum et venerabile nomen, and his substantial 
excellence both of character and genius is of the very highest order. His 
intellect was in a most uncommon degree sound, penetrating, and com- 
prehensive ; his imagination was really magnificent ; he had wit and learning 
in abundance ; his theology was profoundly evangelical, and his piety as 
seraphic, perhaps, as that of any saint since the days of the apostles. All 
these qualities, of which I have given anything but an exaggerated descrip- 
tion, tended to fit him for extraordinary effectiveness as a preacher; but, 
so far as the intellectual powers are concerned, success in preaching depends 
quite as much, perhaps more, upon what Sir James Mackintosh calls the 
secondary faculties of the mind, as upon the primary. And in these Howe 
was singularly deficient. He thought distinctly and methodically ; but he 
wrote without any of that easy and perspicuous order for which the best 
French preachers are remarkable. He indulged to excess, like most of his 
age, in divisions and subdivisions ; and even his sentences are generally as ill- 
constructed as total carelessness can make them. His diction is frequently 
poor, harsh, and clumsy, in a high degree ; so that nothing but the tran- 
scendent vigour of his thoughts and sublimity of his imagination redeem 
his writings from being positively repulsive. A few exceptions to this last 
remark occur throughout his works, in which by some accidental felicity, 
the idea seems to have clothed itself in exquisitely beautiful language. The 
chief faults of his sermons are comprised in those already noticed ; to which 
I must add, that he not unfrequently indulges in speculative discussions 
much too abstruse to be generally edifying to a promiscuous congregation. 
Still, the intrinsic merits of his mind and character were such, that he was 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



337 



of his age in general, is to be attributed, not to a 
want of power, but to the absence of will. 

Calamy tells us, that in ordinary conversation he 
was " many times very pleasant and facetious." 
One or two instances of his u pleasantry," in addi- 
tion to those which have been mentioned in the 
course of the narrative, will not be unacceptable to 
the reader. They afford, at the same time, fine 
illustrations of his judicious mode of administering 
reproof. 

One day, when he was dining in company with 
persons of note, a gentleman at table thought 
proper to expatiate at great length on the merits of 
Charles I. Howe, observing that he frequently in- 
dulged in profane oaths, quietly remarked, " That in 
his enumeration of the excellencies of the prince he 
had undertaken to panegyrize, he had totally omitted 
one, which had been universally and justly ascribed 
to him." The gentleman was delighted to find Mr. 
Howe a witness in favour of the prince he had so 
much praised, and u was quite impatient to know 
what was the excellence which had escaped him." 
Howe suffered him to press for the information a 
little, and then told him, that " Charles was never 
known to utter an oath in his common conversa- 
tion." It is pleasing to add, that the gentleman 

a very acceptable preacher in his own day ; and those who attentively study 
his works, will hnd them rich beyond description, in sound sense, conclusive 
reasoning, deep sentiment, just exposition of Scripture, pathetic appeals to 
conscience, and imagery of a most sublime kind. He was one of the many 
writers of his day who studied Plato and the Alexandrian school with, 
perhaps, too fond a partiality ; but very many of his most beautiful illus- 
trations are either drawn direct from these writers, or strongly tinctured by 
their phraseology. " 

Q 



338 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



bore the reproof well, and promised to abandon the 
habit for the future. 

At another time, as he was walking along the 
street, he came up to two persons of rank, who were 
engaged in a very angry dispute with one another. 
As he passed them, he heard them "danrn" each 
other in a most vehement manner. On this, Howe 
taking off his hat, and bowing to them with great 
courtesy, said, " I pray Grod save you both." They 
were so struck with this salutation, that they forgot 
their anger, and joined in thanking him. 

As a preacher, whether we judge from the dis- 
courses he has left behind him, or from the testimony 
of his contemporaries, Howe must have possessed 
very considerable powers. Still, the impression he 
produced is to be attributed, I apprehend, principally, 
to the intrinsic excellence of his matter, (equally 
valuable whether presented in books or sermons,) 
and to the earnestness, solemnity, and majesty of 
his manner. 

The distinguishing characteristics of his genius 
were certainly not such as promise great oratorical 
excellence. Considered in this point of view, his 
principal defects are obvious. He was evidently 
too philosophical ; too fond of metaphysical dis- 
cussion, of refinement and subtlety. Often must 
his audience have been wearied out by the long 
trains of reasoning, and the abstruse speculations, 
in which he took so much delight. That this was 
the case, we may safely conclude from the fact, 
that, (though, for obvious reasons, such a disquisitory 
style is far more tolerable in a treatise than in a 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



339 



sermon,) even his readers often have cause to com- 
plain of the above peculiarities. 

These peculiarities have, most undoubtedly, ren- 
dered some of the finest pieces of Howe less popular 
than they would have been, and, so far, less useful. 
The reader is apt to be wearied with so much prelim- 
inary skirmishing. Calamy tells us, that the same 
peculiarity marked his usual style of preaching ; the 
first part of his sermons generally displaying great 
depth and reach of thought. They usually closed, 
however, in a strain level to the comprehension of 
the meanest, and with an earnestness and pathos in 
the application calculated to produce the deepest 
impression. Mr. Foster has remarked, that the 
very same peculiarities often distinguish Mr. Hall's 
sermons ; nor is this the only point in which Howe 
and Hall resembled one another. 

I have heard of a good woman who, having read 
some of Howe's pieces, showed her displeasure at 
the above-mentioned defects of method, by saying, 
that " he was so long laying the cloth, that she always 
despaired of the dinner." 

From the mere faults which had their origin in 
the barbarous taste and uncouth fashions of the age, 
Howe was for the most part free. No one can 
charge him with an ostentatious display of his 
learning, or with an idle and pedantic introduction 
of scraps of Greek and Latin. Neither does he 
often indulge in the quaint conceits or the coarse 
and ridiculous allusions, which in that age were so 
general. The sobriety of his mind, and his strong 
sense of propriety, equally concurred to preserve 
him from such follies as these. 

Q 2 



340 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



In one fault of the age, however, (as Robert Hall 
justly remarks,) he far outwent many of his most 
extravagant contemporaries — I mean, in minute and 
frivolous subdivision. We have sometimes heads, 
arranged rank and file, four or five deep. 

It is astonishing that such a man as Howe, or 
indeed, that men every way inferior to him, should 
not have perceived the utterly unphilosophical cha- 
racter of all such divisions. To affix numbers to 
the few leading topics of a discourse, (and these 
must of necessity be few,) is all very well. It 
serves to indicate the great line of thought on which 
the speaker intends to march, and thus to assist the 
memory of the hearer. But if that division be- 
comes intricate — if it consists of several sets of 
figures, — a more successful expedient for thoroughly 
and hopelessly bewildering the mind can hardly be 
devised. 

If any would wish to see the full extent to which 
Howe carried this fault, they may look into the 
" Scheme" (a very accurate one) which his publish- 
ers prefixed to the first edition of the " Delighting 
in God." By the time the student has thoroughly 
digested that, he will find little difficulty, I appre- 
hend, in mastering any theorem in the first six 
books of Euclid. 

Though Howe's genius was not peculiarly adapted 
for oratory, the talents he did possess were diligently 
and successfully cultivated. The ministry of the 
gospel was not only his duty, but his delight ; and 
he spared no efforts which might enable him to 
discharge it with success. Calamy tells us, "his 



LTFE OF HOWE. 



341 



ministerial qualifications were singular. He could 
preach off-hand with as great exactness, as many 
others upon the closest study. He delivered his 
sermons without notes, though he did not impose 
that method upon others." I may remark, that all 
contemporaneous accounts represent his preaching 
as deeply impressiye. 

As a controvertist, the extracts from his reply to 
Stillingfleet, and other writings, already laid before 
the reader, show what his spirit was, better than 
any attempt of mine could do. Not only is his 
temper amiable, not only does he abstain from 
all sarcasm and invective; but he is equally dis- 
tinguished by his candour and fairness — quali- 
ties which resulted scarcely less from the severely 
logical character of his understanding than from the 
operation of Christian principles. To him, victory 
was nothing ; truth, every thing. Thus, we never 
detect him in any mean subterfuge or shuffling 
evasion. His adversaries' arguments he strenuously 
endeavours not only to understand, but to exhibit in 
a fair and honest light. Indeed, if we except Locke 
and Jonathan Edwards, I do not think a more 
upright or single-minded controvertist is to be 
found. 

As a theologian, the soundness of his judgment has 
already been adverted to, when speaking of certain 
intellectual peculiarities. So sober, so rational, and 
so comprehensive are his views of revealed truth, 
that, if it were right to take any mere mortal as a 
guide, it would be difficult to name one who would 
so seldom lead us astray. Not that his theolo- 



342 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



gical writings are devoid of originality ; far from it ; 
but it is the originality of a soundly philosophical 
mind, which never needs take refuge in dazzling 
paradox, or in mere novelty and extravagance of 
conception. His originality is shown, rather in 
presenting known truths under new and striking 
aspects — in pointing out the mutual connexion and 
harmony between them — or in ascending by ana- 
logical reasoning (often of an exceedingly felicitous 
character) from admitted truths, to sober and war- 
ranted conjecture respecting such as are uncertain. 
He is especially happy in pointing out the relations 
which the several parts of the Divine economy ot 
the gospel bear to one another ; their harmony as 
a system ; and the manner in which, considered as a 
piece of complex moral machinery, they conspire to 
effect the great object to which they are subservient, 
— an entire moral transformation of the spirit of 
man. 

In such disquisitions as these, he often turns to a- 
good use his extensive acquaintance with ancient 
philosophy ; especially the sublime speculations of 
his great favourite, Plato. Not that such specula- 
tions at all depraved his views of Christianity : they 
have, it is true, tinctured his habits of thought and 
expression, but they have done nothing more. The 
system he expounds is Christianity — simple Christ- 
ianity still. When he availed himself of ancient 
philosophy, (to use the striking language of Spade- 
man in his funeral sermon,) " he took care to wash 
the vessel, that it might be receptive of Divine 
communications. ' ' 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



343 



But though Howe is quite at home in the profound- 
est speculations of theology, he seldom long loses 
sight of the elementary principles of the gospel. 
On these he best loves to expatiate, and to these he 
perpetually returns. Even in those pieces which were 
intended more particularly for the initiated — for 
those who had already crossed the threshold of the 
temple, he never fails to remind them of the terms 
on which they first sought and found admittance, 
and to inculcate, as the indispensable condition of 
all progress in the Divine life, an habitual recollec- 
tion of the cardinal doctrines of the gospel. I 
scarcely know any discourse of his, however circum- 
scribed the topic of which it treats, or however 
special the occasion which produced it, which does 
not contain a full, clear, distinct recognition of those 
fundamental principles on which rests the whole 
superstructure of evangelical truth. 

It is necessary only to observe further, the singu- 
larly practical character of all Howe's theology. 
Even the most abstruse speculations, he manages 
somehow or other to imbue with this quality.* It 
is evident, indeed, that he habitually considered the 
knowledge of religious truth as totally worthless, if 
not subservient to holiness and virtue. " He did 
not look upon religion," says Calamy, with a felicity 
very unusual with him, " as a system of opinions or 
a set of forms, so much as a Divine discipline, to 
reform the heart and life." But on this topic I have 
already touched in the Introductory Chapter. 

* See, particularly, the first part of his " Living Temple." 



344 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



I have already had occasion to remark, that Howe 
possessed, in an unusual degree, the talents appro- 
priated to active life. His genius was as eminently 
practical as it was contemplative. 

It is here that many of the greatest minds have 
totally failed, either from some incurable defect in 
the mental conformation, or from long and exclu- 
sive devotion to abstract pursuits. There is either 
an excessive refinement of intellect, which produces 
an inaptitude for the less exact reasonings of prac- 
tical life ; or a sensitiveness of taste, which shrinks 
from contact with the vulgar ; or a timidity and 
bashfulness, which recoil from the arduous conflict 
with human selfishness ; or an impetuosity of cha- 
racter, which will consult no prejudices and brook 
no control. Thus unfitted for the world, and soon 
disgusted with it, they sigh for the luxuries of a 
studious solitude. 

Howe well knew what it was to relish them too ; 
the tendencies of his mind were towards the most 
elevated pleasures of intellect. His countenance 
proclaims it : and doubtless it was often with feel- 
ings which nothing but a paramount sense of duty 
enabled him to conquer, that he tore himself away 
from a life of delightful contemplation or of retired 
usefulness, to mingle with a turbulent and a selfish 
world. Yet when he did so, he was fitted for his 
task. Of prudence, he himself used to say, that 
u he was so far from doubting whether it was a 
virtue, that he counted imprudence to be a great vice 
and immorality." Of the consummate ability with 
which he must have conducted himself, no other 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



345 



proof is needed than the statement of the following 
facts ; — that he was often employed in the most 
delicate affairs by Cromwell, yet without incurring 
either blame or suspicion, without displaying vanity 
or coveting power, without abandoning his trust 
or compromising his principles ; well pleased to be 
employed, when his efforts might be useful, still 
better pleased not to be employed at all ; — that, 
though exposed to the scrutinizing eyes of a baffled 
party, and not always agreeing with his own, (and 
when not agreeing, boldly saying so,) he left not a 
rivet of his armour open to the shafts either of 
malice or of envy ; — that though sometimes im- 
peratively urged to reprove even the most power- 
ful and the most honoured, such was the weight 
of his character, "such the esteem of his wisdom, 
and such the mingled dignity and prudence 
of his manners, that he could awe Cromwell into 
silence, and move Tillotson to tears; — and lastly, 
that he never made an enemy, and never lost a 
friend. 

Let it be recollected that all this was unaccompa- 
nied by the slightest compromise of principle. This 
alone shows a rare assemblage of peculiar excellen- 
cies. His prudence was ever conjoined with 
integrity, the " wisdom of the serpent with the 
harmlessness of the dove." 

When we consider this rare union of qualities, the 
rectitude which no sinister influence could warp, and 
the calm prudence which ever governed his actions, 
we need not wonder at what Calamy tells us, that 
Howe was often consulted in the most perplexing 

Q 3 



346 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



cases of casuistry. He was truly qualified to be a 
1 1 due tor dubitan Mum . ' ' 

When we turn from the province of intellect to 
that of sentiment and passion, we still find the same 
singular harmony and proportion. It was not with 
Howe as with many great men. Neither love of 
abstract science, nor unusual solidity of judgment, 
was incompatible with the warmest sensibility. 
This was as vivid as his intellect was strong. Both 
deficiency and excess of feeling, though not in 
equal degree destructive to repose of mind, imply 
an equal departure from the perfection of our nature. 
Howe was characterized by neither ; his mind dwelt 
remote both from that tropical region of the pas- 
sions, in which the soul is alternately scorched by 
heat and wrapped in tempests, and from that frigid 
zone, in which the sun of intellect may shine 
brightly, indeed, but like that of winter — with a 
cold and powerless gleam, and over regions of per- 
petual snow. In a word, the sensibilities of Howe 
were such as they ought to be, and what humanity 
need never be ashamed of ; and where they ought to 
be, under the dominion of reason, itself purified by 
religion. Hear the just and beautiful language in 
which he himself denounces the absurd philosophy 
of those who pretend that the perfection of our 
nature consists in the extinction of the passions. 
The passage closes with an image of surpassing 
magnificence. 

It is " right that we endeavour for a calm indiffer- 
ency and dispassionate temper of mind towards the 
various objects and affairs that belong to this present 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



347 



life. There are very narrow limits already set, by 
the nature of the things themselves, to all the real 
objects and value that such things have in them ; 
and it is the part of wisdom and justice to set the 
proportionable bounds to all the thoughts, cares, 
and passions, we will suffer to stir in our minds in 
reference to them. Nothing is a more evident 
acknowledged character of a fool, than upon every 
slight occasion to be in a transport. To be much 
taken with empty things betokens an empty spirit. 
It is a part of manly fortitude to have a soul so 
fenced against foreign impressions, as little to be 
moved with things that have little in them : to keep 
our passions under a strict and steady command, 
that they be easily retractable and taught to obey ; 
not to move till severe reason have audited the 
matter, and pronounced the occasion just and 
valuable : in which case, the same manly temper will 
not refuse to admit a proportionable stamp and impress 
from the occurring object. For it is equally a prevarica- 
tion from true manhood, to be moved with everything 
and with nothing : the former would speak a man's spirit 
a feather, the latter a stone. A total apathy and 
insensibleness of external occurrents hath been the aim of 
some, but never the attainment of the highest pre- 
tenders. And if it had, yet ought it not to have been 
their boast; as, upon sober thoughts, it cannot be 
reckoned a perfection. But it shoidd be endeavoured, 
that the passions, which are not to be rooted up 
{because they are of nature's planting) be yet so 
discreetly checked and depressed, that they grow 
not to that enormous tallness as to overtop a man's 



348 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



intellectual power, and cast a dark shadotu over his 
soulP 

Of the manner in which he exemplified these just 
and beautiful sentiments, we have abundant proof in 
many impressive incidents of his life, and in the 
general strain of his writings. 

It is a delightful spectacle to see great genius 
(dignified and elevated by extensive attainments) 
capable of unbending itself; of exhibiting all the 
charities of life ; and vindicating its connexion with 
our common nature by a vivid exercise of those 
sympathies which are as endearing as they are uni- 
versal. Such traits are the more pleasing from the 
contrast in which they stand to qualities of a more 
lofty character. Discovered in such men as Howe, 
they impress us with the same kind of emotion which 
travellers tell us they have felt when they have sud- 
denly come upon some sheltered spot of fertility and 
gentle beauty, blooming amidst the grandeur and 
sublimity of Alpine solitudes. Those who thus 
conjoin the lofty and the amiable, humbly imitate 
Him who softens ineffable majesty with ineffable 
condescension ; and that Great Example, in whom 
dwelt not only " all the fulness of the Godhead," 
but all the fulness of humanity. 

It is true, that the expression of feeling is, in Howe, 
tempered by that severe judgment and that habitual 
dignity, which so eminently distinguished him. He 
is never, by any possibility, transported into extra- 
vagance or enthusiasm — if, by the last word, be 
meant what it is so frequently employed to denote — a 
manifestation of feeling disproportioned to the occa- 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



349 



sion. This self-control, however, renders indulgence 
of feeling (when it does occur) the more impressive, 
because we may be sure both that it is genuine, and 
that the importance of the occasion demands it. If 
the surface of Howe's mind was ordinarily unruffled, 
it was only an indication that the channel of its 
feelings was the deeper. That he was susceptible of 
the strongest feeling, and could express it with the 
deepest pathos, is proved by some exquisite letters 
of consolation which he has left behind him — more 
especially that to Lady Russell, shortly after the 
execution of her noble husband ; — by innumerable 
passages of the most touching expostulation scat- 
tered through his works ; — and by that deep and 
most heavenly compassion with which he often 
pours out his soul over the miseries of fallen and 
guilty man. 

The letter to Lady Russell (which was not only 
private but anonymous, and therefore never intended 
to be known as his) is worthy of universal perusal. 
It was prompted by reports that the noble lady to 
whom it was addressed was in danger £< of being 
swallowed up by over-much sorrow." Excessive 
grief had already begun upon her that petrifactive 
process which sometimes completely seals up the 
fountain of the affections and sensibilities. Even 
the consolations of religion, it was said, had parti- 
ally lost their influence upon her. " She had gone 
to the sepulchre to weep there," and, like her of 
whom these words were written, she was in danger 
of forgetting u Him who is the Resurrection and 
the Life." 



350 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



With what gentleness, with what paternal ten- 
derness, does Howe chide her excessive sorrow, 
while his accents., so to speak, seem to falter beneath 
the weight of his own emotions ! What a spirit of 
purest, deepest sympathy, animates the consolatory 
truths which he so beautifully touches ! How 
infinitely removed is his manner from the formality 
of professional condolence ! And with what affect- 
ing pathos does he assure her, at the close, that 
he scarcely ever bent the knee " at the mercy- 
seat " without remembering her sorrows there ! 

But it is in the profoundly pathetic expostulations 
with which he often mourns and chides the madness 
and the guilt of men, that his soul reveals the depths 
of its sensibilities. Like Paul, he tells them, even 
weeping, that they are the enemies of the cross of 
Christ. Nothing can exceed the mingled dignity 
and tenderness which often distinguish his appeals : 
and hard must be that heart, which is not somewhat 
overawed by a majesty of manner so peculiar and 
impressive, and softened by a compassion so disin- 
terested and so pure. 

Illustrations of the above remarks, the reader 
will find in many portions of the " Living Temple/ 7 
and in the " Redeemer's Tears, wept over Lost 
Souls ; " in the latter incomparable treatise, par- 
ticularly, Howe seems to have caught much of the 
spirit which animated his Divine Master on that sad 
occasion to which the discourse in question refers. 

Allied to the excellence of which I have just 
spoken, and, indeed, only a further manifestation of 
the same spirit, is that enlarged and compassionate 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



351 



charity towards the infirmities and frailties of man- 
kind,* of which some of the most excellent men 
have often possessed least. Ever in extremes, our 
nature is sure to distort, in some way or other, the 
features even of the divinest excellence. Thus, 
holiness itself is too apt to put on a harshness of 
tone, a coldness of mien, which, though it covers 
guilt with shame, covers it also with despair, and 
compels it to feel, not only "how awful goodness 
is," but — how unattractive. In general, this is 
likely to be seen in men who have somewhat of that 
loftiness and purity of character which distinguished 
John Howe. Yet, in conformity with that wonder- 
ful principle of amalgamation, which combined 
in him qualities almost incongruous, his writings 
teem with the brightest displays of an opposite 
spirit ; in him, goodness inspires as much love as 
veneration ; he allures as well as awes ; as he 
pleads for the majesty of truth, guilt not only 
stands abashed, but melted and softened by the 
unexpected exhibition of sympathy with its wretch- 
edness. This should be a trait much coveted by 
every Christian minister ; it is an imitation of Him 
whose immaculate purity did not prevent him from 
compassionating our sorrows; and who, " though 
without sin, can be touched with the feeling of 
our infirmities." 

Of the exemplary manner in which he filled the 
various domestic and social relations of life, it is 
amply sufficient to point to the indications of enthu- 

* See this exquisitely exemplified in Ms beautiful sermon, on ' ' Charity 
towards other Men's Sins." 



352 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



siastic love and veneration, with which almost every 
notice of him that has come down to us, however 
incidental, is full. 

His humility, his modesty, his unambitious 
temper, cannot be better illustrated than by his 
conduct in public life. Great as his practical talents 
were, he never coveted the influence and the 
fame which would have been the certain reward 
of their energetic exercise. If honours came, they 
came unsought ; and even then were endured rather 
than enjoyed. Well as he filled a public station, he 
felt that there was one which he not only could fill 
better, but which was infinitely more in harmony 
with the make of his mind and the habits of his life. 
It is evident from the whole tenour of his history, 
as well as from the air of sincerity which character- 
izes him, when touching on such subjects, that it was 
matter of sincere regret when he was called forth 
from the calm retreat of devotion and study, to fill 
a more public station. It is true, he complied ; he 
complied cheerfully, because it was a duty ; but 
only as a duty. He resembled the angelic messen- 
gers, so often mentioned in Scripture, who, when 
they visited earth upon the missions of heavenly 
benevolence, tarried as short a time as possible on 
our dark and troubled orb, and after fulfilling their 
commission, sped back again to the dwellings of 
serenity and love. How touching was the impor- 
tunity with which he implored Cromwell not to 
separate him from his flock ! How did he deprecate 
promotion, as earnestly as others would have sought 
it I And how sincere was the delight with which 



LIFE OF HOWE. 353 

the pastor, once more free, returned to his early and 
humble labours ! the same simple-minded man as 
before, — a man (rare excellence !) unchanged by 
prosperity. 

Not that Howe, — for he was still true to what I 
have so often represented as the ruling principle of 
his character, and recoiled from every extreme, even 
when it was but an exaggeration of an acknow- 
ledged excellence, — not that Howe had any sym- 
pathy with that proud humility, which affects to 
consider the dignities and honours of earth as abso- 
lutely worthless. He did not, like the ascetic, un- 
dervalue them ; he merely valued them at their 
proper price. He thought them of little worth, it 
is true ; because he was perpetually contrasting them 
with what was of infinitely greater value. He was 
too sincerely engaged in the contemplation of the 
incorruptible and eternal, not to feel, when he turned 
to earth, that her brightest scenes shone only with 
a faded and tarnished lustre. There is one passage 
on this subject, so remarkably beautiful and touching, 
in his " Vanity of Man as Mortal," that I cannot 
resist the temptation to transcribe it. 

" Thus also ought we to look upon secular honours and 
dignity ; neither to make them the matter of our admiration, 
affectation, or envy. We are not to behold them with a libid- 
inous eye, or let our hearts thirst after them ; not to value 
ourselves the more for them, if they be our lot, nor let our 
eye be dazzled with admiration or distorted with envy, when 
we behold them the ornaments of others. We are not to ex- 
press that contempt of them, which may make a breach on 
civility, or disturb the order and policy of the communities 
whereto we belong. Though this be none of our own country, 



354 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



and we are still to reckon ourselves but as pilgrims and stran- 
gers while we are here ; yet it becomes not strangers to be 
insolent or rude in their behaviour, where they sojourn, how 
much soever greater value they may justly have of their own 
country. We should pay to secular greatness a due respect, 
without idolatry, and neither despise nor adore it ; consider- 
ing, at once, the requisiteness of such a thing in the present 
state, and the excelling glory of the other : as, though in 
prudence and good manners we would abstain from provoking 
affronts towards an American sachem or sagamore, if we did 
travel or converse in their country, yet we could have no 
great veneration for them, having beheld the royal pomp and 
grandeur of our own prince ; especially he who was himself 
a courtier and favourite to his much more glorious sovereign, 
whom he is shortly to attend at home, could have no great 
temptation to sue for offices and honours, or bear a very pro- 
found intrinsic homage to so mean and unexpressive an image 
of regality." 

It now only remains that I speak of the piety of 
J ohn Howe. It was this which attuned the whole of 
that intellectual and moral harmony, of which I haye 
been speaking. We have seen that he was gifted 
with the most various talents by nature, and these, 
too, in singular perfection; and that they were 
improved by very finished cultivation, and a diver- 
sified discipline ; but it was religion that presided 
over all, determined each faculty to its appropriate 
objects, and regulated the measure of its exercise. 
It permitted none of them, if I may use such an 
expression, to break the ranks, but led them on in a 
stately and solemn march in the progress towards 
perfection. 

None can study the writings, or, what is better 
still, the life of this truly great man, without feeling 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



355 



that his piety was of the very highest order ; that 
religion was his element ; that in communion with 
the supreme good, in a diligent preparation for a 
nobler state of being, in the contemplation of 
the future and the unseen, — he really found the 
highest pleasures of his existence ; that he had at- 
tained as complete an ascendancy over sensual 
and animal nature, and as lofty an elevation 
above the world, as was ever vouchsafed to poor 
humanitv. This, indeed, is the secret of that 
unclouded serenity, that repose of mind, which 
characterized his life. 

His piety partook of the harmony which reigned 
throughout his character. It was remarkably free 
from the exaggerations into which even some of the 
best of men have been betrayed. He displays 
none of the affectation of contempt for the present 
world, which is compatible with the utmost world- 
liness ; nor aims at a preternatural elevation of soul, 
which would imply something more than human. 
In a word, he had nothing either of the anchorite or 
ascetic in his composition. He neither thought that 
earth was worth nothing, because heaven was worth 
infinitely more, nor that religion could only be 
founded on the ruins of humanitv. 

It may be said, indeed, that to be free from the 
extravagances of the hermitage and the cell is no 
uncommon merit. But the spirit in which these 
extravagances originate is not restricted to any par- 
ticular communion ; it is almost as universal as 
human nature; and it is a more rare thing than 
such an objector would perhaps imagine, to find a 



356 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



piety, like that of Howe, quite free from these and 
similar extravagances. 

Some perhaps would demur to the statement that 
the religion of Howe was quite free from every tinge 
of enthusiasm ; and they would point, in justification 
of their doubt, to the remarkable passages which 
were found inscribed on the blank leaf of his study 
Bible. On these passages I shall offer a single obser- 
vation, merely remarking at present, that they com- 
mence with expressions which indicate a soundness 
and sobriety of religious sentiment, very incon- 
sistent with the character of an enthusiast. The 
passages are as follows: — 

" Dec. 26, 89. Quum diu apud me serid recogitarem, 
prseter certum et indubium assensimi rebus fidei adhibenduni, 
necessarium insuper esse vivificum quendam earundem gustum et 
saporem, ut majori cum vi et efficacia in ipsissima cordis penetra- 
lia sese insererent; ibidemque altius infixes, vitam eo potentius 
regerent ; neque aliter de bono Deum versus statu conclusion iri, 
sive sanum judicium posse ratum haberi ; cumque pro concione, 
2 Cor. i. 12, fusius tractassein, hoc ipso mane ex hujus modi 
somnio dulcissimo, prim 6 e^igilavi : mirum scilicet a superno 
Divinse Majestatis solio, coelestium radiorum profluvium in 
apertum meum hiansque pectus, infusum esse videbatur. 

" Saepiiis ab illo insigni die, memorabile illud pignus 
Divini favoris, grato animo recolui, atque dulcedinem ejusdem 
iterum atque iterum degustavi. 

" Quae autem Octob. 22, 1704, id genus miranda Dei mei 
benignitate, et suavissima Spiritus Sancti operatione percepi, 
omnium verborum quae mihi suppetit copiam, plane superant! 
Perquam jucundam cordis emollitionem expertus sum, fusis 
pra3 gaudio lacbrymis, quod amor Dei per corda diffundere- 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



357 



tur, mihique speciatim donato in hunc finem Spiritu suo. 
Rom. v. 5/'* 

Some may perhaps ask the curious question,— 
was the dream mentioned in the first paragraph 
naturally suggested by a holy and happy state of 
mind, (in this respect, following a well-known law 
of dreams,) or was it designed as a special disclo- 
sure of the Divine love and favour? If either of 
these suppositions could be established, they would 
reject the other. But the fact is, that these suppo- 
sitions do not exclude one another. That there may 
have been nothing supernatural in any of the cir= 
cumstances of the dream itself — that they may be 
all referred to the intervention of ordinary second 
causes — that there was no disturbance or suspension 

* I subjoin Mr. Spademan's translation : — 

" Dec. 26, 89. After that I had long, seriously, and repeatedly thought 
with myself, that besides a full and undoubted assent to the objects of faith, 
a vivifying, savoury taste and relish of them was also necessary, that with 
stronger force and more powerful energy, they might penetrate into the most 
inward centre of my heart, and there being most deeply fixed and rooted, govern 
my life : and that there could be no other sure ground whereon to conclude and 
pass a sound judgment, on my good estate God-ward ; and after I had in my 
course of preaching been largely insisting on 2 Cor. i. 12, ' This is my re- 
joicing, the testimony of a good conscience,' etc. ; this very morning I awoke 
out of a most ravishing and delightful dream, that a wonderful and copious 
stream of celestial rays, from the lofty throne of the Divine Majesty, did 
seem to dart into my open and expanded breast. I have often since with 
great complacency reflected on that very signal pledge of special Divine 
favour vouchsafed to me on that noted memorable day ; and have, with 
repeated fresh pleasure, tasted the delights thereof. But what of the same 
kind I sensibly felt through the admirable bounty of my God, and the most 
pleasant comforting influence of the Holy Spirit, on Oct. 22, 1704, far sur- 
passed the most expressive words my thoughts can suggest. I then ex- 
perienced an inexpressibly pleasant melting of heart, tears gushing out of 
mine eyes, for joy that God should shed abroad his love abundantly through 
the hearts of men, and that for this very purpose mine own should be so 
signally possessed of and by his blessed Spirit. Eom. v. 5." 



358 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



of tlie regular order of nature, may be admitted; 
and yet it will not follow from such admission, that 
the Divine Being did not intend this dream to be a 
special manifestation of his regard ; unless it be first 
admitted, that he never will employ any combina- 
tions of ordinary causes to conspire in such a result 
— an admission, by the way, which would go far to 
banish the doctrine of a providence altogether. 

The devotion of Howe was one of the loveliest 
parts of his character. ' It was deep, habitual, and 
intense ; it was not founded on a partial or distorted 
view of the Divine character, but was just the im- 
pression likely to be produced, by a harmonious 
perception of the various relations in which man 
stands to God under the gospel economy. 

That the piety of Howe was as habitual as it was 
deep, that he applied it to every event of life, those 
most beautiful and affecting reflections, which he 
penned when deliberating at Antrim, whether he 
should remove to London or not, are a striking 
proof. 

He, who could thus make every duty a matter of 
conscience, and lay bare his bosom to the searching 
inspection of the Spirit of God, could not fail to 
make rapid progress in the attainment of every 
species of excellence : since to obey implicitly the 
will of God is to act, in each case, from the noblest 
and the most exalted motives. 

To recapitulate; — Howe seems to have been a 
combination of very various and, in some respects, 
almost heterogeneous excellencies, any one of which 
may have been seen in a greater degree somewhere 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



359 



or other, but have seldom been concentered in such 
perfection in one person. To the acutest powers of 
argument, and the finest talents for speculation, he 
conjoined a discriminating judgment, and shed 
around all, the light of a powerful and sublime 
imagination. He possessed talents which equally 
fitted him for a contemplative or an active life ; and 
though the tendencies of his mind would have led 
him to the former as a matter of choice, he was 
capable of performing the most arduous services in 
the latter, when a matter of duty. To the most en- 
larged acquaintance with abstract science, he united 
a knowledge, not less profound, of human nature. 
In all transactions with the world, he exhibited a 
rare combination of prudence and integrity. In that 
most delicate task, the reproof of others, he was 
inflexibly faithful, yet always kind ; and while he 
remembered what was due to the majesty of truth, 
never forgot what was also due to the claims of 
charity. He was frank, yet not rash; and cautious, 
yet free from suspicion. In his deportment, he 
knew how to conciliate elevation of character with 
the gentlest condescension, and the acutest sensi- 
bility. Dignified, but not austere, he was " grave 
without moroseness, and cheerful without levity." 
While he subjected all the inferior principles of his 
nature to the severe control of reason, itself en- 
lightened by the Spirit of God, he was not so 
absurd as to attempt their annihilation ; nor did the 
loftiest attainments of intellect interfere with the 
varied display of all human charities. 

Above all, these qualities were crowned, or rather 



360 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



sustained and nurtured, by a deep, ardent, habitual, 
all-pervading spirit of piety ; a piety which united 
burning zeal with the coolest judgment ; the most 
intense desire for the glory of God, with ceaseless 
efforts for the welfare of man ; the loftiest exercises 
of a deeply meditative and devotional spirit, with 
the sedulous cultivation of the homeliest graces; 
that rarest of all combinations — the closest com- 
munion with the future and the eternal, with a 
conscientious and busy discharge of all the duties 
of to-day. Such was John Howe : the rude ele- 
ments of this various excellence were, indeed, 
bestowed at his birth ; but it was the power of the 
gospel of Christ, and that alone, which developed and 
expanded them ; which directed them to the noblest 
objects ; which controlled, purified, and exalted 
them. As his reception of the gospel was an illus- 
trious tribute paid to its truth, so his character and 
life were an emphatic exhibition of its power. That 
he had his faults, we are certain; for he was man: 
while all the excellencies he possessed, he would 
have been the first to attribute solely to the influ- 
ence of the Spirit of God. That these were many, 
we may judge from the language of Spademan, his 
friend and coadjutor, — language already quoted, and 
worthy of being quoted again, — that " it seemed as 
though he was intended to be an inviting example 
of universal goodness." 



CHAPTER XII. 



ANALYSIS OF HOWE'S WETTINGS. 

INTRODUCTORY REMARKS — HIS POSTHUMOUS WORKS— THE LIYTXG TEMPLE — 
THE TREATISE OX DELIGHTING US GOD — THE BLESSEDNESS OF THE 
RIGHTEOUS — THE YAXTTY OF MAN" AS MORTAL — THE TRACTATE OX THE 
DTVEfE PRESCTEXCE — THE CALM AND SOBER ENQUIRY INTO THE POS- 
SIBILITY OF A TRINITY IN" THE GODHEAD— THE REDEEMER'S DOMTXIOX 
OYER THE LNYISLBLE WORLD — HOWE'S FUNERAL SERMOXS, AXD OTHER 
OCCASIONAL DISCOURSES. 

It is my intention, in tlie following remarks on 
Howe's writings, to confine myself to those pieces 
which he himself prepared for the press, and for 
which alone, therefore, he is responsible. These 
are contained in the two folio yolmnes of Calamy's 
edition. 

Of his posthumous writings, as they are often called, 
a great part are not his writings in any proper sense. 
They are merely notes of some of his sermons, 
taken by some of his hearers who wrote short-hand, 
and published after his death. Those notes are, I 
acknowledge, in some respects valuable. They con- 
tain, here and there, thoughts worthy of the lips 
from which they fell. At the same time, it 
is obvious that the continuity of thought, which 
so greatly distinguished Howe, is often lost, the 

R 



362 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



transitions from one topic to another are often 
exceedingly abrupt, and sometimes very different 
topics are confounded together. These are defects 
which will always be inseparable from such an 
inadequate method of preserving the discourses of 
a public speaker. 

Though, therefore, the notes in question are of 
value, they are not to be placed on a level with the 
writings which Howe himself prepared for publica- 
tion ; and it would be unjust to make him answer- 
able for them. This would hardly be fair, indeed, 
had they been faithful transcripts of the discourses 
in question — since they were merely ordinary pulpit 
exercises, and not composed with the remotest idea 
of publication. Nor had any of his " posthumous 
works" been prepared by him for the press. 

Almost all Howe's controversial pieces, (being so 
closely connected with his own history, and that of 
his times,) have already been the subject of remark. 
These are, his " Letter to a Person of Quality," in 
reply to Stillingfleet ; his sermon on " Union among 
Protestants ; " his two discourses on the " Carnality 
of Religious Contention;" and his tract on " Occa- 
sional Conformity." 

The remaining works will be considered, not in 
the order of their publication, but according to their 
magnitude or importance. The circumstances 
under which they were severally composed have 
already been mentioned, and will not be alluded to 
in this portion of the volume. 

Neither shall I make any remarks on peculiarities 
of style or manner — these points having been fully 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



363 



discussed, in considering Howe's character as an 
author. 

The work which, in accordance with the prin- 
ciple of arrangement laid down, first demands our 
attention, is the " Living Temple." It is by far 
the largest, most important, and most elaborate, of 
all the author's publications. It was published 
originally in two parts, and at dates differing by an 
interval of nearly thirty years. The first appeared 
in 1676, the year after his return from Ireland — the 
second, in 1702. 

The whole work professes to be " a designed 
improvement of that notion, that a good man is 
the Temple of Grod ; " and forms, in fact, a system 
of theology, — an exposition of all the great prin- 
ciples of religion, both natural and revealed. 

As the idea of a u Temple " obviously presup- 
poses an object of worship, and the willingness of 
the Deity to hold intercourse with his worshippers, 
the author devotes the first part to an elaborate 
demonstration of the " existence and perfections " of 
God, and of his " conversableness with men." 

It was certainly the ablest work on the atheistical 
and deistical controversies which had yet appeared. 

The crisis at which the first part of the Living 
Temple " was written, was a most important one. 
It was but too evident that the controversial genius 
of the age was about to take an entirely new 
direction. The spirit of sceptical speculation was 
rapidly advancing. It continued to advance, till, 
at length, it boldly questioned all the fundamental 
principles both of ethics and theology. 

b 2 



364 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



Hitherto there had not been the remotest cause 
for apprehension from such a source. The danger, 
for at least many years after the Reformation, was 
rather of an opposite nature. Men so recently, 
and, in thousands of instances, so partially eman- 
cipated from a system of the most abject super- 
stition, were far more likely to believe too much 
than too little, far more inclined to credulity than 
scepticism. If a faint whisper of infidelity was now 
and then heard, it was little heeded; the less so, 
that sceptics were compelled, out of deference to 
public opinion, and (to our shame be it spoken) 
from a dread of public punishment, either to con- 
ceal their doctrines in a learned tongue, or to dis- 
guise them, (an expedient which the apostles of 
sceptical schools have employed with singular 
adroitness from the remotest times,) in language 
which would not shock popular belief ; to teach 
pantheism, like Spinosa, in the specious language 
of devotion ; or deism, like Tindal, by representing 
" Christianity " to be " as old as the creation." 
Up to the middle of the seventeenth century, not 
a single English writer of any eminence had 
openly avowed a disbelief in Christianity, except 
Lord Herbert, of Cherbury, brother to that sim- 
ple-minded and excellent man, George Herbert, 
the poet. 

It was in reply to Lord Herbert, as well as to 
some other more obscure and less able writers, that 
.Baxter composed his voluminous work on the 
Christian evidences. 

When Howe published the first part of his 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



365 



" Living Temple/' a very obvious change had taken 
place in the aspect of those controversies which 
respected the fundamental principles of theology. 
By this time, Hobbes and others had published their 
daring and presumptuous speculations. 

To the rapid changes which had taken place in 
the aspect of the controversies in question, Howe 
alludes in the first chapter of his " Living Temple." 
The passage is one of uncommon force and beauty, 
and contains the following striking and charac- 
teristic observations on the probable connexion 
between the progress of scepticism and the ran- 
cour of religious contentions ; and on the best 
mode of defending religion, — that of practically 
exhibiting it in its purity and glory : — 

" Since matters are brought to that exigency and hazard, 

that it seems less necessary to contend about this or that 

mode of religion, as whether there ought to be any at all ; 

what was said of a former age could never better agree to 

any than our own, that ' none was ever more fruitful of 

religions, and barren of religion or true piety.' It concerns 

us to consider whether the fertility of these many doth not 

as well cause, as accompany, a barrenness in this one. 
******* 

" Who fears to insult over an empty, dispirited, dead 
religion? which alive and shining in its native glory (as that 
Temple doth which is compacted of e lively stones ' united 
to the ' living corner stone ') bears with it a magnificence and 
state that would check a profane look, and dazzle the pre- 
sumptuous eye that durst venture to glance at it obliquely 
or with disrespect. 

"The temple of the living God, manifestly animated by 
His vital presence, would not only dismay opposition, but 
command veneration also, and be its own both ornament and 



366 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



defence. Nor can it be destitute of that presence if we our- 
selves render it not inhospitable, and make not its proper 
inhabitant become a stranger at home." 

In his attempt to demonstrate the existence and 
perfections of God, he does not restrict himself, as 
Clarke* has professed to do, or as Paleyf nas really 
done, to any one species of argument. Provided it 
be in his judgment sound, and can be rendered 
intelligible, he is content to avail himself of any 
argument, from whatsoever source derived; to prove 
one part of his propositions by one train of reason- 
ing, and another by another. As to whether his 
arguments are uniform and homogeneous through- 
out, — a point about which Clarke is so curiously 
solicitous, — Howe is totally careless. He justly 
thought that the momentous character of the 
cause he advocated, as much required that he 
should not neglect any sound argument, as that he 
should reject every argument that was not sound ; 
that the magnitude and importance of the object 
justified him in pursuing it " velis et remisP 

The first chapter is wholly introductory. In the 
second, he argues both " the existence of God and 
his conversableness with man," from " the general 
consent " of mankind. This consent, in accordance 
with the prevailing philosophy of the day, he 
appears to attribute to " innate ideas." The doc- 
trine of such innate ideas, as it was the object of 
Locke to refute, (if any one, indeed, ever really 
held it) may well be rejected; but the argument for 

* In his (so called) a priori demonstration, 
t In his " Natural Theology."" 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



367 



any truth, founded on the universal belief of mankind, 
remains precisely the same in force, whether we 
reject that doctrine or not. It is the universality of 
the belief which constitutes the argument, not the 
manner in whidi that universality may be supposed 
to be produced. Whether we admit, with the advo- 
cates of a better " doctrine of innate ideas," that such 
and such truths are congenital with the mind, and 
are involved with the very elements of its being ; or 
simply say, that they infallibly commend them- 
selves as true, to reason, as soon as reason is fully 
developed j that is, that the human mind is so consti- 
tuted that, as its faculties unfold, it will inevitably 
arrive at such and such conclusions, — the argument 
from universal belief is in either case just the same. 

That the all but universal prevalence of a belief 
in a Deity — a belief which has prevailed through- 
out all ages and nations, and amidst every con- 
ceivable variety of prejudice, education, and civil 
polity ; above all, which has been most generally 
cherished and most firmly held by the most en- 
lightened communities of mankind, and if absent 
in any, absent only in tribes little raised above the 
brutes, — is a strong presumptive argument against 
the atheistic theory, must surely be acknowledged 
by any candid atheist, if, indeed, any such person 
is to be found. It is an instance, as Whately, in 
his Rhetoric, justly observes, of the argument from 
" progressive approach." 

After having briefly but powerfully touched on 
this topic, our author proceeds to a more formal 
proof of the existence of Grod, whom he defines to 



368 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



be " an eternal, uncaused, independent, and neces- 
sary Being, that hath action, power, life, wisdom, 
goodness, and whatsoever other supposable excel- 
lency, in the highest perfection, originally in and of 
itself." 

Before proceeding to insist on those arguments 
which appear to him most satisfactory, he gives his 
reason for declining to employ the methods of 
Descartes and others, alluded to in Cudworth's 
" Intellectual System," (as well as in Henry More's 
" Enchiridion Metaphysicum ") ; that is, of proving 
the existence of Grod from the very conception of 
Him as an absolutely Perfect Being. This argu- 
ment Howe, with characteristic judgment, rejects; 
not, as he affirms, that he thinks it might not, "in 
spite of cavil, be managed with demonstrative evi- 
dence," but " because some most pertinaciously 
insist, that it is, at bottom, a mere sophism : " he 
therefore, " without detracting anything from the 
force of it, prefers to go another way, as plainer and 
less liable to exception, though more circuitous." 

I not only think Howe was right in rejecting 
such a species of argument, as likely to be abso- 
lutely unintelligible to the mass of readers, and of 
doubtful significance even to the most acute and the 
best instructed, but I must confess I cannot see its 
" demonstrative evidence" at all.* 

It has often been supposed that what is called 
Clarke's a priori u demonstration " is based on a 
single principle, and is homogeneous and concate- 

* The reasons I have stated elsewhere. Essay on Descartes. — Ed. Review, 
Jan. 1852. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



369 



nated throughout,* Such a notion is not unnatu- 
rally suggested by the author's declaration,— " that 
he has confined himself to one only method or 
continued thread of argument, which he has endea- 
voured should be as near to mathematical as the 
nature of such a discourse would allow ; " f or, as 
he yet more boldly expresses it in the introduction, 
" one clear and plain series of propositions, neces- 
sarily connected, and following one from another." 
Such a representation, however, — though Clarke, 
who was a most honest controvertist, must have 
believed it in some sense true, — will hardly be 
received by those who will carefully analyse the 
piece for themselves. To such, his performance 
will plainly appear to be made up of three distinct 
trains of argumentation, two of them strictly a 
posteriori ; and the other, the argument from the 
conceptions of infinite space and duration. This 
last is introduced in the " third proposition." But 
even this argument is not — what the whole demon- 
stration has so often been styled — properly a priori. 
Indeed, no argument on such a subject can have 
any claim to such a title. To reason a priori, in 
the ordinary sense of those words, is to reason from 
the cause to the effect. Now, supposing the argumen- 
tation in the present case quite valid, it is plain it is 
not a priori ; infinite space and infinite duration not 
being the cause of the existence of Deity, but only 

* Dugald Stewart speaks on this subject as though the whole of the 
"demonstration" was but an elaborate exposition of one logically con- 
nected argument. 

f Preface. 

B 3 



370 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



the cause of our knowing the fact. From this 
argument, I confess, whether called a priori or not, 
I could never derive the slightest satisfaction. 

The argument is as follows : — Infinite space and 
infinite duration are real existences ; as such, they 
are either substances or attributes: they cannot be 
the former ; they must be, therefore, the latter. 
Attributes cannot exist alone : there must, therefore, 
be some substance of which they are properties, and 
in which they inhere ! Here are no less than two 
or three propositions absolutely taken for granted ; 
and these, too, on a subject on which we are least 
capable of speculating at all, — infinite space and 
infinite duration. 

When, indeed, we have attained satisfactory proof 
of the existence of Grod on other grounds, one can 
easily conceive that the ideas of immensity and 
eternity well harmonize with the idea of such a 
Being; we seem instinctively to feel that he must 
be infinite ; — that he fills infinite space and exists 
through infinite duration. But it is hard to con- 
ceive how the ideas of space and duration can form 
the medium of proof that Grod exists. 

And even if it could be logically made out, that 
infinite space and infinite duration necessarily im- 
plied the existence of some leing, of whom these 
were attributes, how would they prove the intel- 
lectual and moral perfections of such a being? Yet 
it is plain, that unless such attributes can be proved 
of Grod, Atheism is distinguishable from Theism 
only in name. 

And here it is worthy of remark, that when 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



371 



Clarke proposes to prove the intelligence of this 
infinite First Cause, he openly, and in apparent 
forgetfulness of his professions " of having adopted 
but one method, and one continued thread of argu- 
ment," abandons all the principles on which he had 
been before reasoning, acknowledging that the in- 
telligent nature of the First . Cause cannot well be 
proved a priori ; and, therefore, recurring to the 
usual a posteriori argument from the traces of wisdom 
and design, of which the whole universe is full. 

This forms one of the two trains of a posteriori 
reasoning, which I have said are to be found in this 
so-called a priori demonstration. The other is found 
in the first two propositions of the work, and is 
exactly similar to that on which Howe insisted in 
the second chapter of his u Living Temple," more 
than thirty years before : I mean the argument for 
" an eternal, uncaused, independent, and necessarily 
existent Being," from the admitted fact, that some- 
thing exists now. This is plainly an argument from 
effects to their cause. 

Instead, therefore, of Clarke's piece being what 
it aspires to be, one continued chain of reasoning, 
whereof every proposition depends on the preceding 
proposition, and all on one set of premises, it is in 
reality (what, indeed, in spite of all affectation of 
severe logical accuracy, every such work must be) a 
collection of inferences argued on different grounds, 
and by different methods. None of the reasoning, 
it is true, is a priori in the strictest sense : not even 
that which professes to demonstrate the existence of 
Grod from the ideas of infinite space and infinite 



372 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



duration ; while the rest, as just said, consists of two 
distinct trains of strictly a posteriori reasoning ; the 
one, proving the eternity- and self-existence of God, 
and depending on the postulate, " that every effect 
must have a cause ; " the other, his intelligence and 
wisdom, and depending on a similar postulate, " that 
whatever exhibits marks of design, must have had 
an intelligent author." These portions of the work, 
if taken separately, and considered as independent 
trains of reasoning, founded on independent pre- 
mises, are abundantly clear and satisfactory. But 
these topics had been already frequently insisted 
on, and especially by Howe, in the work now under 
consideration. Whatever value may belong to these 
trains of reasoning, taken separately, it assuredly 
cannot be said that Clarke demonstrated the exist- 
ence and perfections of God " in one continued 
thread of argument, or in one series of necessarily 
dependent propositions." It is this unwise claim 
which defrauds his work of much of the merit to 
which it would otherwise be entitled. 

Clarke seems to have been betrayed into this 
error by that love of logical subtlety and scientific 
exactness, which his habits, as a mathematician, 
could not fail to inspire.* 

Howe has fallen into no such error : he has wisely 

* Not only is Howe's general method preferable; he also anticipates 
most of Clarke's argumentation. It is well remarked by Dr. Doddridge, that 
if everything were abstracted from the " Demonstration, " which had been 
already stated in the " Living Temple," the residue would be little indeed. 
From this it must not be supposed that Clarke plagiarized, but merely that 
he was to a great extent anticipated. Clarke, as already said, was not only 
an acute but an honest disputant. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



373 



contented himself with proving the different parts of 
his great proposition, by different premises, and by- 
different methods. — But to resume the exposition of 
his argument. 

The principal part of the second chapter is taken 
up with an elaborate and very able exposition of 
the a posteriori argument for the existence of an 
u eternal, independent, uncaused, necessarily existent 
Being," as deduced from the fact that something 
exists notu. That argument is simply as follows : — 

1st. Since u something" exists now, — something 
must always have existed, unless we admit that at 
some period or other, " something" sprang out of 
" nothing." 

2nd. Something or other must have existed from 
all eternity of itself, unless we are still prepared to 
embrace the absurdity above mentioned. This we 
must do, if we maintain that all things that have 
ever existed have owed their origin to something 
else, since that something else would be of course 
included. 

3rd. This something which has eternally existed 
of itself, exists necessarily ; in other words, is of 
such a nature that it could not but exist. 

4th. For similar reasons, it will never cease to 
exist. 

5th. Whatsoever partakes not of this necessary, 
self-existent nature, must obviously owe its exist- 
ence to that which does: unless we come back to 
the former absurdity, that something may spring 
from nothing. 

The reasoning thus far is clear and well sustained, 



374 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



and the first part of the proposition established ; 
that there is an eternal, uncaused, necessarily existent 
something, which is the primary cause of whatsoever 
is created, successive, and mutable. But then what 
is the character of this mysterious something ? Is it 
a blind unintelligent agent, or is it invested with 
any intellectual and moral attributes ? and if with 
any, with what? These questions, so far as the 
above reasoning goes, are left altogether undecided, 
Instead, therefore, of suspending on the chain a 
greater weight than it will bear ; instead of at- 
tempting to educe (as Clarke promises to do, but 
really does not) the intellectual and moral perfec- 
tions of Deity "from one clear and plain series of 
propositions, necessarily connected and following 
one from another," Howe wisely proceeds to esta- 
blish the other parts of his proposition on other 
grounds. 

In the third chapter, therefore, in which he affirms 
intelligence of this eternal and uncaused Being, he 
gives us a long, and, considering the defective 
philosophy of the age, a very masterly exhibition of 
the usual a posteriori argument, founded on the traces 
of wisdom displayed in every part of creation. 

The force of this argument, as such, depends on 
the admission, that "whatever exhibits traces of 
design must have had an intelligent author." As 
the marks of consummate skill and wisdom dis- 
played in the works of God are so obvious, even 
on the most superficial survey, and not only attract, 
but compel observation, it is impossible that God 
should ever be in this respect " without witness." 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



375 



Accordingly, we find that many of the same facts 
have been insisted on by all writers who have 
treated this subject, from Plato and Cicero, down to 
the authors of the " Bridgewater Treatises." Still, 
as the argument is perpetually cumulative, (for all the 
discoveries of science are but so many disclosures of 
the Creator's wisdom,) the degree of impressiveness 
with which the argument may be exhibited, will 
always depend, cceteris paribus, on the extent and 
accuracy of scientific knowledge. A writer of the 
present day, who should possess exactly the qualities 
which distinguished Paley, — the same perspicacity 
of mind — the same powers of reasoning — the same 
command of forcible and homely illustration — the 
same perspicuity and vigour of style — would possess 
far greater facilities for composing a work on 
"Natural Theology" than his predecessor; nor is 
it impossible that, hereafter, such a work as that 
of Paley may appear quite antiquated. As the 
great revolution which took place in the state of 
physical science during the seventeenth century, 
had only just commenced at the time Howe wrote, 
it was not to be expected that the argument should 
be treated with anything like the copiousness and 
splendour of illustration which distinguish many 
modern treatises. His scientific knowledge was 
comparatively limited, and, of course, by no means 
free from the prevailing errors of the time. The 
chapter on this subject, however, is distinguished by 
great comprehensiveness. In proof of this, it may 
be observed, that he has made much of the traces of 
design exhibited in the constitution of the human 



376 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



mind — a department which, until lately, has rarely 
been touched by writers on " Natural Theology." * 

The manner, too, in which he states the nature of 
the argument from design, is exceedingly able. It 
is worthy of remark that, in doing this, he adopts 
the very same illustration with which Paley intro- 
duces his " Natural Theology." 

The following sentences (and there is a much 
more minute application of the illustration in the 
context) may be read with interest on this account : 

"That we may also make the case as plain as possible 
to the most ordinary capacity, we will suppose, for instance, 
that one who had never seen a watch or anything of that 
sort, hath now this little engine first offered to his view ; can 
we doubt that he would, upon the mere sight of its figure, 
structure, and the very curious workmanship which we will 
suppose appearing in it, presently acknowledge the artificer's 
hand ? But if he were also made to understand the use and 
purpose for which it serves, and it were distinctly shown him 
how each thing contributes, and all things in this little fabric 
concur, to this purpose, — the exact measuring and dividing of 
time by minutes, hours, and months, — he would certainly both 
confess and praise the great ingenuity of the first inventor. 

3fc ^fc 3f? ^ ^flr 3fc 

" But surely such general easy reflections on the frame of 
the universe, and the order of parts in the bodies of all sorts 
of living creatures, as the meanest ordinary understanding 
is capable of, would soon discover incomparably greater 
evidence of wisdom and design in the contrivance of these, 
than in that of a watch or a clock. 

"H? 'fc ^fr ^ ^? ^fl? ^f? 

" And let them that understand anything of the composi- 

* Lord Brougham has remarked this in his work on the subject. He 
has also done much to supply the deficiency. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



377 



tion of a human body (or indeed of any living creature) but 
bethink themselves whether there be not equal contrivance at 
least appearing m the composure of that admirable fabric, as 
of any the most admired machine or engine devised and 
made by human wit and skill. If we pitch on anything of 
known and common use, as suppose again a clock or watch, 
which is no sooner seen, than it is acknowledged (as hath 
been said) the effect of a designing cause, will we not 
confess as much of the body of a man?"* 

* It is. perhaps, not very probable that Paley had seen Howe's illus- 
tration ; if he had. he has abundantly made it his own. But he has been 
supposed to have stolen a like illustration, together with some others from 
ZSTieuwentyt, and a vehement, but most absurd charge of plagiarism was 
brought against him some years ago in one of our journals. I have replied 
to the charge against Paley elsewhere, and extract a few sentences ; for we 
ought not lightly to let odious imputations of plagiarism rest on illustrious 
men who have deserved the grateful remembrance of all friends of truth 
and religion : — 

" In fact, it is absurd to charge Paley with plagiarism for having selected 
matter from other writers ; his whole work proceeds on that supposition ; it 
is the manner in which he has employed his materials (in themselves co mm on- 
place enough), that stamps his work as original. The facts of science he 
deals with he did not discover ; he knew perfectly well that he must be 
indebted for every one of them to others. But the same charge of plagiarism 
might be brought against any formal treatise, either of science or history, 
for nine-tenths of the substance of it must exist in previous writers. Such 
charge, if it had any force at all might much more reasonably be brought 
against Paley for the use he has made of Derharn and Kay ; for he is more 
indebted to these than to the Dutchman. But he who is at the trouble of 
comparing them with Paley will soon find that though the materials must of 
necessity be much the same, the interval is wide enough to leave Paley's 
originality in all that is really claimed for him unquestionable. 

""We have no hesitation in saying that if, out of Kieuwentyt's three 
ill-compacted volumes, Paley had evoked such a work as his '^Natural 
Theology' by selections, by rejections, by condensation, by re- arrangement, 
and by diffusing over the whole the vivid lights of his vigorous mind and 
style, his claims to originality would have suffered as little abatement as 
that of Shakspeare (on whom a similar charge was once fastened), because 
in a few of his plays he has condescended to make use of materials of in- 
ferior dramatists, and turned, by his magic touch, their lead into gold. 

• ' The truth is, as just said, that the merit of Paley's work is that of having 
wrought materials, open to everybody, into a beautiful fabric ; and to blame 



378 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



This chapter also contains an excellent refutation 
of the Cartesian doctrine, " that animals are mere 
machines ;" and a long, and, in some parts, rather 
jocose refutation of the " atomic theory of Epicurus." 
The humour, it must be confessed, is somewhat 
unwieldy, and contrasts strangely with the usual 
gravity of the author. He himself seems not a little 
surprised that he should have been betrayed into 
this extraordinary fit of pleasantry, for he closes the 
argument with an apology for it. 

The fourth chapter is an attempt to demonstrate, 
from the propositions previously established, the 
absolute perfection and infinity u of the eternal and 
self-existent Cause ;" and I confess that, considered 
in a purely logical point of view, certain portions of it 
are to my mind the most unsatisfactory in the whole 
work. They are so for the same reasons which 
render all merely human speculation on the tran- 
scendental subjects of the "Infinite" and "Absolute" 
unsatisfactory. In Howe's day, however, seeming 
success was more easy than it would be now. Sun- 
dry metaphysical axioms would then be accepted, 
or at least not be denied, which would now be 
thought precarious or futile. I cannot think that 
the conclusions (though most true) strictly follow 
from the premises ; or, indeed, that they can be 
absolutely proved by anything short of revelation. 

him that his materials were got from other quarters, is much as if it were 
charged upon a great architect that his stone was not of his own quarrying, 
nor his bricks of his own burning. 

" The impress of Paley's very peculiar mind is on this work, as on all the 
rest, and would alone show that it was no plagiarism, unless all of them be so." 
—Encycl. Brit, art. Paley. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



379 



That the great First Cause must possess power and 
knowledge, wisdom and goodness, to the extent dis- 
played in his works ; that, even if we were to stay 
here, these attributes appear to be great beyond all 
conception ; that there is no reason whatever why 
we should conclude them limited; that it seems 
more probable that they are without limit;— all these 
points will be most readily conceded ; but they do 
not amount to strict proof that the Author of the 
universe is absolutely infinite. 

Not that this can .ever make the slightest dif- 
ference in our relations to him, even if revelation 
had not decided the point. Whether we can prove 
G-od to be absolutely infinite, or not, it is plain that 
a being who has power and wisdom to the over- 
whelming extent displayed in the works of creation, 
would justly demand from his creatures the pro- 
foundest adoration and reverence. We are nothing 
relatively to Him, and therefore, to use the 
language of mathematics, He is infinite relatively 
to us, whether we can demonstrate his absolute 
infinity or not. On this subject Howe has some 
sublime and eloquent observations in a subsequent 
chapter. 

In the same chapter also he attempts to prove the 
absolute unity of God. I must confess my inability 
to see that this follows conclusively from the propo- 
sitions already established; or, indeed, from any- 
thing but the book of Revelation. To prove, in abso- 
lute strictness of logic, that there is only one neces- 
sarily existent Being, passes, I think, the power of 
the unaided intellect of man. If it be granted that 



380 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



there is one self-existent Being, mere reason would 
find it difficult to demonstrate that there could not 
be more than one. It is of no avail to say that all 
but that One who created the universe must have been 
eternally inactive ; it might be plausibly said, first, 
that more than one such Being might have conspired 
in the creation of the universe ; or, secondly, that 
since we must suppose all creation to be finite, there 
was in infinite space scope enough for many sepa- 
rate creations of a plurality of self- existent Beings ; 
or, lastly, that if only one had evinced his power and 
wisdom by external manifestations, the supposed 
eternal inactivity of other self-existent Beings is but 
the condition in which, as far as human reason can 
conjecture, that One must also have existed when 
" He inhabited eternity" alone. He, too, as far as 
we can perceive, must have dwelt in eternal solitude 
before the work of creation began. If it be said that 
more than one such Being could not be omnipotent, 
reason might suggest that it sees not why there 
should not be more than one Omnipotent in the only 
sense in which we use the term ; that is, possessing 
power to do all things which do not imply a con- 
tradiction, — as, for example, to destroy that which 
is necessarily self-existent : similarly, that it does not 
see any contradiction in more than one such Being 
possessing unlimited wisdom and goodness, as well 
as power. Such a supposition would merely suggest 
the idea of perfect consentaneousness of purpose and 
of action ; nay, it might perhaps suggest the possi- 
bility of some such transcendental truth as that of the 
Trinity, but would not prove the impossibility of 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



381 



there being more than one self-existent Being. In 
short, the subject is beyond the compass of a finite 
mind, and devoutly as we believe the unity of God 
from revelation, no philosophical demonstration that 
we have seen is wholly satisfactory. When Robert 
Hall, in his " Sermon on Modern Infidelity," dis- 
misses the question by saying, " It is sufficient to ob- 
serve that the notion of more than one Author of 
nature is inconsistent with the harmony of design 
which pervades her works, that it solves no appear- 
ance, is supported by no evidence, and subserves no 
purpose but to embarrass and perplex our concep- 
tions," we have no difficulty at all in acquiescing in 
his conclusion ; but if given as a proof of the absolute 
unity of God, it must be pronounced unworthy of so 
logical a mind, and evasive of the real difficulties of 
the problem. The greater part of theologians, we 
apprehend, would now concede that for certainty on 
this subject we must come to revelation.* The 
sophism, sometimes used, that there can only be one 
necessarily existent Being, because the supposition of 
one is all that is necessary to explain the phenomena 
of the universe, is, I suppose, likely to impose on no 
one, who is even moderately on his guard against 
the ambiguities of language. But though the argu- 
mentation of this chapter is not absolutely conclu- 
sive, it displays, in every part, conspicuous subtlety 
and acuteness. If it does not fully convince, it at 
least shows the hazards of denying the conclusion. 

* Some able remarks on this subject will be found in the Quarterly Review 
for March, 1826. The utmost that the speculations of antiquity achieved in 
this directioD is there dispassionately stated. 



382 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



The fifth chapter is one of the most original and 
best reasoned in the whole work. It demands of the 
Atheist, whether — if he will reject all the preceding 
evidence for the existence of Grod — there are any 
conceivable methods by which the fact (conceding it 
be true) could be certified to us? Supposing this 
question answered in the affirmative, Howe proceeds 
to examine all the other methods of certifying the 
great fact, at all conceivable to human reason ; and 
then proves that they would every one be open to 
stronger objections, and would on the great scale be 
less convincing, than the evidence which the Atheist 
has already rejected as insufficient. Thus he compels 
him to adopt the strange conclusion, that, if there be 
a Grod, it is, so far as we can conceive, impossible that 
his existence should ever be adequately ascertained 
to us ! 

The sixth and last chapter is well worthy of com- 
parison with anything of the kind that has ever ap- 
peared. It is in proof of the second proposition with 
which he had set out — u God's conversableness with 
men." It is principally directed against the system 
of Epicurus, who, while admitting the existence of 
gods, was too devout, or rather too polite, to trouble 
them even to create the world, much more to superin- 
tend its concerns. Leaving all this to his fortuitous 
concourse of atoms, he graciously permitted his 
deities to enjoy an eternity of happy indolence ! 

But, though professedly directed against this 
absurd system, the principal part of Howe's reason- 
ing applies with equal force, and some of it with 
greater, to those systems of deism, which, admitting 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



383 



the existence of a Creator of the universe, excluded 
him, for very obvious reasons, from all inconvenient 
share in the administration of its affairs. He made 
the world, and then abandoned it ! These systems 
were not fully developed in Howe's day, nor, indeed, 
till the age of Bolingbroke, whose superficial genius 
was suitably employed in defending such a shallow 
theory. 

The origin of such systems it is not difficult to 
conjecture. Their authors thus hope to get rid 
of the logical difficulties which press every modi- 
fication of the atheistic theory, and, at the same 
time, to secure that liberty from moral restraints 
which nothing less than the expulsion of Deity from 
his throne can insure them. So long as they can 
secure that, these sovereign arbiters, these makers 
of their Maker, are willing to behave with the 
most magnanimous generosity ! They consent to 
commute his sentence from death to banishment. 
They do not absolutely prohibit his existence ; they 
merely forbid him to appear on earth, on the peril of 
being again resolved into a nonentity ! Thus, while 
affecting to consult the ease of Deity by relieving 
him of the irksome and sordid cares of universal 
empire, they are in reality only intent upon their 
own. Such men are theists in name, and atheists in 
reality; or, as Cicero well said, " verbis reliquerunt 
deos, re sustuleruntP 

At the conclusion of this chapter, Howe proceeds 
to assert the omniscience, omnipotence, immensity, 
and unlimited goodness of the Deity. Some parts 
of his reasoning on these topics, considered purely 



384 



LIFE OF HOWE, 



as reasoning, are vitiated by their dependence on the 
argumentation of the fourth chapter, that is, on the 
reception of some of those metaphysical axioms, 
especially in relation to the infinite, which would 
not now be so readily conceded. In that chapter, 
he endeavours to demonstrate, by unaided reason, 
that God is " absolutely perfect and infinite." As- 
suming that this has been done, he proceeds to prove 
some of the attributes above-mentioned by a rather 
summary process : something in this way, — " It has 
been proved that God is absolutely perfect ; none 
can doubt that foreknowledge is a perfection ; he 
therefore has it. — It has been proved that he is infi- 
nite ; his foreknowledge therefore extends to every- 
thing future." These remarks, however, only apply 
to some portions of the reasoning ; very much of it 
is truly admirable. 

The second part of his " Living Temple," as 
already stated, did not make its appearance till 
1702 ; that is, nearly thirty years after the publica- 
tion of the first. During that interval had appeared 
the " Ethics of Spinosa," a posthumous publication, 
in which alone, of all his writings, the author has 
given an undisguised exposition of his opinions. In 
that work, as is well known, Spinosa affirms that 
there is but one substance throughout the universe, 
the two great properties of which are, thought and 
extension ; this he represents as God ; consequently, 
every part of the universe partakes, in some mys- 
terious way, of the Divine nature ! This system 
combines in itself all the difficulties of Pantheism 
and Atheism. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



385 



It is obvious that, so far as religion is concerned, 
u it little matters," to employ the language of Howe, 
" whether we make nothing to be God, or everything ; 
whether we allow of no God to be worshipped, or 
leave none to worship Him." He adds, " Spinosa's 
attempt to identify and deify all substance, attended 
with that strange pair of attributes, extension and 
thought (and an infinite number of others besides), 
hath a manifest design to throw religion out of the 
world that way." 

Against this system of Spinosa, as well as against 
that of a French writer, who, in a work professedly 
written in refutation of the " Posthumous Ethics," 
had defended the dangerous doctrine of a " necessary 
self-existing matter," Howe addresses himself in the 
first two chapters of the u Second Part." 

The name of the French writer, Howe intimates, 
was not unknown to him. But he has kept it secret : 
" he would not divulge," he tells us, "that which 
the author seemed desirous to conceal." The title 
of the work in question is "L'Impie Convaincu." * 

The arguments of John Howe on this subject 
are acute and cogent. If they are not entirely 
satisfactory, if the reader is disposed to think that 
the discussion sometimes becomes a wicronayla) it is 
certainly for no want of subtlety in our author ; but 
partly from the suspicion that some of the meta- 
physical axioms assumed on either side are by no 

* It is attributed (Fabricius Script. Vet. et Rec. pro Veritate Relig. 
p. 359) to Aubert de Verse. Another work on the same subject, with a veri- 
similar title ('L'Impiet§ Convaineue,' ) was written by Pierre Yvon. (Ib. 
p. 344.) 



386 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



means axiomatic, and lead only to logomachy ; and 
partly from the congenial darkness in which pan- 
theistic speculation naturally enshrouds itself. Con- 
troversy here is somewhat like a battle in a sub- 
terranean cavern. 

Having dismissed these topics in the first two 
chapters, and given, at the beginning of the third, 
a brief recapitulation of the " First Part," he pro- 
ceeds to the ulterior objects he contemplated in the 
work. 

Before he could go further, it was obviously neces- 
sary to establish the authority of the book of Reve- 
lation. One would have thought that having spent 
so much time in proving the fundamental truths of 
all religion, he would have insisted with proportion- 
able copiousness on the evidences of Christianity. 
He contents himself, however, with a very short, 
though very able summary of the principal argu- 
ments on which the truth of revelation rests, 
referring the reader for more ample satisfaction to 
Grotius' " De Veritate," Stillingfleet's u Origines 
Sacrae," and Baxter's " Reasons of the Christian 
Religion," all of them now superseded by inn inner- 
able works of greater power and comprehensive- 
ness. 

This leaves him at liberty to enter, without further 
delay, on his great design in this second part; an 
exposition of the sublime scheme the gospel reveals 
for the restitution of the now desolate " Temple " of 
Deity. 

By way of appropriate introduction, he calls us 
first to contemplate this " Temple in Ruins." 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



387 



The depravity of man he proves from the testi- 
monies of Scripture, and from the actual and noto- 
rious condition of the whole race. He confirms his 
reasoning by many striking passages from the works 
of heathen writers : and here his extensive acquaint- 
ance with ancient philosophy is displayed to great 
advantage. 

The close of this chapter is undoubtedly the most 
eloquent portion in the whole work. In the fre- 
quently quoted and memorable passage, in which he 
describes the human soul in ruins, there is not only 
beauty in the conceptions, and great power of ex- 
pression, but a mournful rhythm in the sentences, 
exquisitely adapted to the sentiments, and contrast- 
ing strongly with our author's too frequent rugged- 
ness. For example : — 

" That He hath withdrawn himself, and left this his 
temple desolate, we have many sad and plain proofs before 
us. The stately ruins are visible to every age, that bear in 
their fronts (yet extant) this doleful inscription : ' Here God 
once dwelt.' Enough appears of the admirable frame and 
structure of the soul of man to show the Divine presence did 
sometime reside in it ; more than enough of vicious defor- 
mity to proclaim he is now retired and gone. The lamps are 
extinct ; the altar overturned : the light and love are now 
vanished, which did the one shine with so heavenly bright- 
ness, the other burn with so pious fervour 

Look upon the fragments of that curious sculpture, which 
once adorned the palace of that great king ; the relics of 
common nations ; the lively prints of some undefaced truth ; 
the fair ideas of things ; the yet legible precepts that relate 
to practice. Behold ! with what accuracy the broken pieces 
show these to have been engraven by the finger of God ; and 

S 2 



388 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



how they now lie torn and scattered, one in this dark corner, 
another in that, buried in heaps of dirt and rubbish. There 
is not now a system, an entire table of coherent truths to be 
found, or a frame of holiness, but some shivered parcels. And 
if any, with great toil and labour, apply themselves to draw 
out here one piece, and there another, and set them together, 
they serve rather to show how exquisite the divine workman- 
ship was in the original composition, than for present use to 
the excellent purposes for which the whole was first designed. 
.... You come amidst all this confusion as into the ruined 
palace of some great prince, in which you see here the 
fragments of a noble pillar, there the shattered pieces of 
some curious imagery, and all lying neglected and useless 
amongst heaps of dirt. He that invites you to take a view 
of the soul of man gives you but such another prospect, and 
doth but say to you, ' Behold the desolation! All things rude 
and waste.' So that, should there be any pretence to the 
Divine presence, it might be said : ' If Grod be here, why is 
it thus ? ' The faded glory, the darkness, the disorder, the 
impurity, the decayed state in all respects of this temple, too 
plainly show the great inhabitant is gone " 

Many other passages, however, are almost equally 
impressive and eloquent ; what, for example, can be 
more beautiful than the following description of that 
glorious felicity to which man was originally destined 
and invited ? 

" It was a most delectable and pleasant state, to be 
separated to the entertainment of the Divine presence ; that, 
as soon as man could first open his eyes, and behold the light 
and glory of this new-made world, the great Lord and 
Author of it should present himself, and say, ' Thou shalt be 
mine.' How grateful a welcome into being ! ' Thee, above 
all my works, which thou beholdest, I choose out for myself. 
Thine employment shall be no laborious, painful drudgery ; 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



389 



unless it can be painful to receive the large communications 
of immense goodness, light, life, and love, that shall, of 
their own accord, be perpetually flowing in upon thee ! 
Whatsoever thou espiest besides, that is even most excellent 
and pleasant to thy sense, is yet inferior to thee, and insuffi- 
cient for thy satisfaction and highest delight, and but the 
faint shadow of that substantial fulness which I myself will 
be unto thee.' " 

The remaining chapters are entirely taken up in 
the prosecution of his main object — an exposition of 
the great system of moral restitution which Infinite 
Wisdom and Benevolence have devised. No reader 
can fail to be impressed with the clearness, the com- 
prehensiveness, and the self-consistency of Howe's 
doctrinal views, — the thorough knowledge he seems 
to possess not only of the peculiarities of the gospel 
system, taken separately, but of their mutual cohe- 
rence and harmony, and of the manner in which they 
severally conspire to the attainment of those sublime 
purposes for which they were revealed. On such 
topics as these he loved to expatiate. 

The most striking and valuable portions of these 
chapters are, his description of the Incarnate Mes- 
siah ; his acute defence of the doctrine of the atone- 
ment, in reply to the oft-reiterated charge, that it is 
inconsistent with equity ; # his delineation of the 

* In the following passage lie forcibly puts the argument that to account 
for the sufferings of the perfectly holy and innocent Messiah is made abun- 
dantly more difficult by denying the Atonement. "The loud clamours 
wherewith some later contenders have filled the Christian world on this 
subject make it fitting to say something of it, and the thing itself ueeds not 
that we say much. We do know that the innocent Son of God was crucified ; 
we know it was by G-od's determinate counsel ; we know it was for the sins 
of men, which the adversaries, in a laxer and less significant sense, deny not s 



390 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



character of Christ, as the archetype of the character 
to which that of every Christian must ultimately 
correspond, or the model-temple, in harmony with 
which every other temple of the heart is to be reared ; 
his exposition of the necessity of spiritual influences ; 
of the laws and methods by which they are dispensed ; 
and of the manner in which they conspire with all 
the moral means and instruments with which Divine 
Wisdom has been pleased to associate them. 

Throughout this noble performance, as well as in 
all his other writings, Howe abundantly justifies the 
remark of Calamy, that he did not consider " reli- 
gion so much a system of doctrines, as a Divine 
discipline, to reform the heart and life." His 
practical views of its nature and design are per- 
petually manifesting, I had almost said, obtruding 
themselves. That, at least, is the word I should 
have used, if the introduction of such topics could, 
in such works, have been at any time inappropriate. 
Even amidst the most purely speculative and dis- 
quisitory portions of the " First Part," he is per- 
petually interspersing important practical reflections, 
and reminding the reader that speculative truth is 

though it must by no means be understood, say they, as a punishment of 
hose sins ; we know many of those sinners do finally escape deserved 
punishment. The truth of these things, in fact, is disputed on neither side. 
All these, then, are acknowledged reconcilable and consistent with the 
justice of God. What then is to be inferred ? Not that the things are not 
so ; for that they are is acknowledged on all hands. What then ? That 
God is unjust ? Will their zeal for the expiation of God's justice admit of 
this ? No : but it is only unjust, ' to count 'this suffering of his Son a 
punishment.' That is, it is unjust he should suffer for a valuable and 
necessary purpose ; not, that he should suffer needlessly, or for no purpose 
that might not have been served without it ! " 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



391 



of value only as it tends to form the heart to 
virtue. 

He concludes the work with referring his readers 
to the three sermons on " Self- dedication" and 
on u Yielding ourselves to God;" which, indeed, 
though published on very different occasions, and at 
distant periods, form a sort of continuation of the 
subject. 

The treatise of " Delighting in God," though 
largely infected with the vices of Howe's style and 
manner, is one of the most valuable works on prac- 
tical religion in our language. It is founded on 
those words of the Psalmist, " Delight thyself also 
in the Lord, and he shall give thee the desires of 
thine heart." 

Like the " Living Temple," it is divided into two 
parts. The first explains the import of the precept ; 
the second enforces the practice of it. 

He introduces the work by a clear and forcible 
statement of the great relations which the Divine 
Being sustains to the renewed soul of man — as u a 
Lord to be obeyed, and a Portion to be enjoyed," 
and of the " sufficiency and communicableness of 
that good," which, more especially under the latter 
of these aspects, He cannot but impart. He then 
enters at large into the nature of that " Divine com- 
munication" (in itself accompanied with " delight") 
which must render God an object of delight, and on 
which, as respects depraved and fallen man, the very 
susceptibility of such delight depends. This topic 
he copiously treats under the following heads. The 
communication implies, he tells us, — I. " An in 



392 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



wardly enlightening revelation of God to the mind." 
II. " A transforming impression of his image." III. 
" The manifestation of the Divine love to the soul 
in particular." 

Under the first of these heads, he has some just 
and philosophical observations on the far greater in- 
fluence which even the most limited knowledge of 
religious truth will exert on a devout and pious mind, 
than the most accurate religious knowledge on the 
most comprehensive intellect, if destitute of real 
piety. He shows, that the greater vividness of con- 
ception, consequent on a moral renovation of heart, 
will impart a power to truths imperfectly under- 
stood, of which the clearest and most capacious un- 
derstanding, without such Divine preparation, can 
know nothing. 

In this part of the work he has the following 
striking observations on the difference of vividness 
between the intellectual apprehension and the moral 
appreciation of religious truths. " There is a certain 
acceptableness in some truths (necessary to their 
being received in the love thereof), which is pecu- 
liarly so represented to some as that their apprehen- 
sion is clear and vivid beyond that of other men ; 
who, however they have a representation of the 
same things, yet have not the same representation" 
He then illustrates the obstruction which a depraved 
heart presents to the due apprehension of practical 
truth, by a magnificent image — in fact, an image 
identical with that by which Burke illustrates the 
condition of atheists : yet how feeble is Howe's 
expression in comparison! " God," says Burke, 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



393 



" never presents himself to their thoughts but to 
menace and alarm them. They cannot strike the 
sun out of heaven, but they are able to raise a 
smouldering smoke that obscures him from their 
own eyes." The expression in Howe is less worthy 
of the thought ; but we must (as I have said) learn 
to look at his thoughts abstracted from the graces 
of language. The passage is as follows : " For a 
vicious prejudice blinds their eyes ; their corrupt 
inclinations and rotten hearts send up a malignant, 
dark, and clammy fog and vapour, and cast so black 
a cloud upon these bright things, that their ten- 
dency and design is not perceived Against 

which poisonous cloud God's own glorious revela- 
tion directs its beams, dissolves its gross consis- 
tency, scatters its darkness " 

Under the second of the above heads, he enters 
largely on two of his most favourite topics, — the 
great transformation which passes on the spirit of the 
Christian man, and on the delight which that trans- 
formation necessarily brings w T ith it. With charac- 
teristic rapture he dwells on the extent of this 
transforming influence ; as diffusive over the whole 
nature of man; as affecting all the principles and 
passions of the soul ; as " rectifying" us in relation 
to God, to ourselves, and to our fellow-creatures. 

Under the third of the above heads, he tells us, 
that he does not mean any u enthusiastical assurance ; " 
or " such a testification of the love of God to the 
soul, as excludes any reference to an external revela- 
tion, or the exercise of our own enlightened reason 
and judgment thereupon ; or wherein these are of no 

s3 



394 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



use, nor have subservience thereto : " but " such a 
manifestation as is always in accordance with the 
Divine word, and ordinarily employs that as its 
instrument." He denies, however, that it can be 
proved that u God never doth immediately testify 
his own special love to holy souls, without the 
intervention of some part of his external word, 
made use of as a present instrument to that purpose, 
or that he always doth it in the way of methodical 
reasonings thereupon." His observations on this 
subject are exceedingly cautious and modest, and 
contain nothing at which sober piety or sound 
philosophy can be in the slightest degree justly 
offended. 

The whole of the remarks on the latter part of 
this head are full of genuine Christian philosophy. 
They are far too long to insert, but are well worthy 
of the devout and attentive perusal of every Chris- 
tian. 

Having thus largely insisted on these Divine com- 
munications (themselves attended with delight), 
which are necessary to render God an object of 
delight to man, and man susceptible of taking de- 
light in God, he proceeds to explain the nature of the 
delight itself. This delight, in a phraseology not 
very perspicuous, though the thought itself is beau- 
tiful, and is beautifully illustrated, he divides into 
" explicit" and " implicit ; " the former he considers 
as consisting in direct acts of contemplation, and 
communion with God ; the latter, as latently insi- 
nuating itself into all the movements of the soul ; 
accompanying the exercise of all its faculties; 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



395 



" lying folded up," as he powerfully expresses it, 
" in acts and dispositions which have another more 
principal design ; " and spreading and diffusing a 
gladdening and happy influence over the whole con- 
texture of the Christian's occupations and enjoy- 
ments. 

The Second Part, as already said, treats of the 
practice of the precept enjoined in the text. 

In conformity with his explanation of the twofold 
nature of the delight itself " as explicit and implicit," 
he tells us, that he shall treat the practice and exercise 
of delight as " a thing adherent to the other duties of 
religion, and as a distinct duty of itself." 

Under the former of these, he insists at great 
length on the following points, that u we are not to 
rest, or let our practice terminate, in any religion 
which is not naturally and in itself delightful ; and are 
to seek after and improve in that which is." After 
laying down some rules for directing our judgment 
on the subject, he gives a masterly delineation of 
various kinds of spurious religion, as indicated by 
the absence of that great quality of delight which 
must ever characterize the true ; and, in a series of 
very impressive reflections, rebukes the folly of 
resting in any such systems of religion. 

In this part of the treatise occur some observations 
which remind one of the celebrated passage in which 
Butler shows that " going over the theory of virtue 
in one's thoughts, talking well and drawing fine 
pictures of it, is so far from necessarily or certainly 
conducing to form a habit of it in him who thus 
employs himself, that it may harden the mind in a 



396 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



contrary course." Similarly, Howe shows that the 
" delight" taken in a merely " notional" or specu- 
lative apprehension of religious truth is not only 
most perverse, but full of danger. 

" That religion," lie says, " is not duly delightful which 
consists wholly in revolving in one's own mind the notions 
that belong to religion, without either the experience or the 
design and expectation of having the heart and conversation 
formed according to them. So the case is with such as 
content themselves to yield the principles of religion true, and 
behold with a notional assent and approbation the connexion 
and agreement of one thing with another, but do never 
consider the aim and tendency of the whole, . . . . 

"When this is never considered, but men do only. know, 
that they may know, and are never concerned further about 
the great things of God than only to take notice that such 
things there are offered to their view which carry with them 
the appearance of truth, but mind them no more than the 
affairs of Utopia, or the world in the moon ; what delight is 
taken in this knowledge is surely most perverse. There is a 
pleasure indeed in knowing things, and in apprehending the 
coherence of one truth with another ; but he that shall allow 
himself to speculate only about things wherein his life is 
concerned, and shall entertain himself with delight in agita- 
ting his mind in certain curious general notions concerning a 
disease or a crime that threatens him with present death, or 
what might be a remedy or a defence in such a case, without 
any thought of applying such things to his own case, or that 
the case is his own, one may say of such pleasure, " it is mad," 
or of this delight, " what doth it ? " Or he that only surfeits his 
eye with beholding the food he is to live by, and who in the 
meantime languishes in the want of appetite, and a sickly 
loathing of his proper nutriment ; surely such a one hath a 
pleasure that no sober man would think worth the having. 
And the more anyone doth only notionally know in the 



\ 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



397 



matters of religion, so as that the temper of his spirit remains 
altogether unsuitable and opposite to the design and tendency 
of the things known, the more he hath tying ready to come 
in judgment against him ; and if, therefore, he count the 
things excellent which he knows, and only pleases himself 
with his own knowledge of them, it is but a like case as if a 
man should be much delighted to behold his own condemna- 
tion written in a fair and beautiful hand ; or, as if one should 
be pleased with the glittering of that sword which is directed 
against his own heart, and must be the present instrument of 
death to him. And so little pleasant is the case of such a 
person in itself, who thus satisfies his own curiosity with the 
concernments of eternal life and death, that any serious 
person would tremble on his behalf at that wherein he takes 
pleasure, and apprehend just horror in that state of the case 
whence he draws matter of delight." 

The latter part of the treatise, in which he insists 
on the " practice and exercise of delight, considered 
as a distinct duty in itself," is wholly hortatory. 
Much of it is conceived in the noblest spirit of 
hallowed eloquence ; especially the passage in which, 
while inciting professed Christians to aspire to a 
more heartfelt and vivid enjoyment in religion, he 
calls them to contemplate the devout raptures with 
which the saints of old were wont to kindle, and to 
contrast with those exhibitions of almost seraphic 
ardour the cold and languid devotions of the gene- 
rality of Christians. 

Near the close of the work occurs a striking image, 
which has probably unconsciously suggested a beau- 
tiful sentence in one of Archer Butler's sermons. 
Speaking of the duty of cherishing humility as a 
condition of the soul's communion with God, Howe 



398 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



says, " His 1 light and glory' shine with great lustre 
in the eyes of such a one, while there is not a nearer 
imagined lustre to vie therewith ; stars are seen at 
noon by them that descend low into a deep pit." 
The parallel image in Archer Butler occurs in his 
" Sermon on the Syro-phcenician Woman." " Men, 
from deep places, can see the stars at noonday, and 
from the utter depths of her self-abasement she 
catches the whole blessed mystery of heaven. Like 
St. Paul's Christian, ' in having nothing she possesses 
all things.' " 

This work is, beyond most others, even of Howe, 
disfigured by minute division and subdivision. There 
is hardly a single page that is not broken up into 
two or three formal heads. This, together with 
the meagreness of expression and ruggedness of 
style, renders it almost as repulsive in manner 
as it is valuable in matter. But the thoughts 
will well repay the patience expended on a careful 
perusal. 

" The Blessedness of the Righteous," first pub- 
lished in 1668, was ushered into the world by a 
recommendatory preface from Richard Baxter. 
Though the work is seriously disfigured by the same 
fault of intricate arrangement, which detracts so 
much from the merit of the treatise I have just 
noticed, it evinces more care in the composition than 
almost any other of the author's productions. This 
may perhaps be accounted for by the fact, that it 
was his first important publication. On this, authors 
usually bestow more care, since they cannot as yet 
presume on their reputation. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



399 



The treatise is founded on those words of the 
Psalmist, " As for me, I will behold thy face 
in righteousness : I shall be satisfied, when I 
awake, with thy likeness." * Like the " Delight- 
ing in God," it appears to be the substance of a 
series of sermons preached to the people at Great 
Torrington. 

The first chapter is wholly introductory. It opens 
with some natural reflections on the folly of suppos- 
ing man created only for the present life. They 
contain, in fact, the germ of his noble discourse on 
the " Vanity of Man as Mortal," which, as so closely 
connected with the subject of the present treatise, 
was subsequently bound up with it. 

The author next enters at some length into the 
criticism of the text. His close examination of the 
various readings, and of the different versions, gives 
a favourable idea of his talents as an expositor of 
Scripture. 

As this treatise is, in fact, a disquisition on heaven, 
the character of its inhabitants, their preparatives 
for entering it, and the nature of its occupations and 
enjoyments ; and as the comprehensiveness of Howe's 
mind would not permit him to leave any topic un- 
touched which ought to be insisted on, — it would 
perhaps have been quite as w r ell had he abandoned 
his text altogether, and recast the whole discourse in 
a new form. It would have facilitated a more 
natural and simple arrangement, and would have 
prevented the attempt (in which he imitated the 



* Psalm xvii. 15. 



400 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



frivolous ingenuity of the day) to find everything in 
the text. 

In the second chapter, he proceeds to distribute 
the principal topics of discourse. These are, the 
subject j the nature, and the season, of the blessedness 
to which the text adverts. To the consideration of 
the first of these this chapter is devoted. 

The righteousness which is to qualify for heaven, 
he, of course, affirms, cannot consist in sinless obe- 
dience to the moral law, that being impossible to 
depraved man. He tells us, " that it can be under- 
stood to be nothing but the impress of the gospel 
upon a man's heart and life ; conformity in spirit 
and practice to the revelation of the will of God in 
Jesus Christ ; a collection of graces exerting them- 
selves in suitable actions and deportment towards 
God and man." This part of the work contains 
some admirable observations on the relations in 
which man stands to the moral law under the 
economy of the gospel, and the position which that 
law occupies in the constitution of that economy. 
He shows that, while the gospel provides an ample 
remedy for man's violation of the law, or his defec- 
tive obedience to it, it still considers that law as the 
rule of his conduct, and aims ultimately at bringing 
him into complete subjection to it. 

In the third chapter, our author enters on the 
second consideration, the nature of this blessedness. 
This he represents as consisting in " the vision of 
God's face, in the assimilation to the character of 
God, and in the satisfaction resulting thence." 
These " ingredients " he then proposes to consider 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



401 



separately and in conjunction ; or the manner in 
which the first contributes to the second, and both 
to the third. 

In treating of the " vision of God's face," he 
maintains the probability that there will be some 
external manifestation of the Divine glory adapted 
to the refined organization of the glorified body. 
Such a manifestation, he justly observes, cannot be 
imagined to belong to the " being of God; " but he 
contends that it may serve as " some umbrage of 
him, as a man's garments are of the man, which is 
the allusion of the Psalmist in those words, c Thou 
art clothed with majesty and honour ; thou coverest 
thyself with light as with a garment.' " 

May we not, from the representations of Scripture, 
justly conclude, that such an external representation 
of the Divine glory will be afforded in the person 
of Him, " in whom dwelleth all the fulness of the 
Godhead bodily?" 

He reasonably maintains, however, that what is 
principally intended by the "vision of God's face," 
is the contemplation of his attributes, as seen in all 
their harmony and beauty; as stamped on all his 
then perfect works — works possibly studied and 
inspected, not only with a far more penetrating 
glance, but on a far vaster scale and under widely 
different aspects, — and as illustrated by that pro- 
vidence, the perplexities of which, time, or rather 
eternity, will have unravelled: when the clouds 
which obscure our vision shall have rolled away, 
and many of the mysteries which now overhang the 
universe and all the works and ways of God, shall 



402 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



fill the rapt mind with the profoundest adoration , 
and dissolve it in ecstasies of delight and wonder. 

In this part of the work is introduced a long 
marginal digression, in which he exposes, with just 
severity, the absurd and presumptuous speculations 
of many of the schoolmen respecting the nature 
and effects of the beatific vision. Such specula- 
tions were equally offensive to his reason and to his 
piety ; more especially when translated, (as he tells 
us they had been,) by some contemporaneous 
writers out of the uncouth dialect of the schoolmen 
into a more vulgar tongue, for the benefit of " modern 
enthusiasts." 

In the fourth chapter, he explains the nature of 
"that assimilation" to the Divine character, and 
that perfect " satisfaction n of soul, of which the 
text speaks. The former he describes as a resem- 
blance to God in every species of communicable 
excellence, whether natural or moral ; but more 
especially moral: the latter, as that perfect repose 
of soul, which must follow the enjoyment of perfect 
good, — the fruition of every hope, and the gratifica- 
tion of every desire. 

The next six chapters the author devotes to an 
ample consideration of the relation which these 
" three ingredients of future happiness" hold to one 
another; or, the manner in which the contempla- 
tion of the Divine glory contributes to an assimila- 
tion to the Divine character ; and both, to the perfect 
felicity of heaven. These topics, — the practical in- 
fluence which the contemplation of moral excellence 
must exert on the habits and dispositions of the 



LIFE OF HOWE, 



403 



soul, and the felicity which such a transformation of 
character necessarily brings with it, — were particu- 
larly grateful to him. Here, therefore, we might 
expect to find him at home ; and he has, in truth, 
amply justified every expectation that might be 
formed of him. 

In the discussion of the first of these topics, or 
the manner in which the contemplation of the Divine 
glory tends to produce a resemblance to the Divine 
character, he introduces some most philosophical ob- 
servations on a very favourite topic, — one which he 
had evidently often and deeply revolved, — the reci- 
procal action of the understanding and the will. 

The happiness of heaven, so far as it will flow 
from the " vision of the Divine glory," he attributes 
partly to the nature of the objects contemplated, — 
embracing the whole circle of the Divine perfections ; 
and partly to the very acts of the mind, (then per- 
formed without sense of weariness,) by which this 
contemplation will be carried on. 

The blessedness of heaven, so far as it results 
from an " assimilation " to the character of God, he 
illustrates by showing, 1st. What that resemblance 
"involves;" — a felicity arising both from the re- 
semblance itself and from the happy consciousness 
that such resemblance is possessed ; and 2nd. By 
what it " disposes and tends to;" eternal union and 
communion with God. 

The tenth chapter treats of the season of this 
"blessedness." Here he contends with the gene- 
rality of orthodox divines, and in clear accordance 
with the whole tenour of Scripture, that the soul 



404 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



enters upon its career of immortal felicity at the 
dissolution of the body, though the consummation 
of its blessedness is reserved till the resurrection. 

He has adduced the principal texts of Scripture 
which sustain this view, and argues from them with 
great cogency. He especially urges the words of 
the apostle when he expresses a wish to " depart 
and be with Christ" as "far better." "How 
strangely mistaken and disappointed," says our 
author, "had the apostle been, had his absence 
from the body set him further from Christ ! " It 
may be added, that if Paul did not fully believe 
that to die was to be in conscious communion with 
Christ, he would surely have preferred to remain in 
imperfect communion on earth than dwell in uncon- 
scious slumber till the resurrection. " But now," 
says Howe, speaking of the Christian's dying hour, 
"now is the happy season of the soul's awaking 
into the heavenly vital light of God ; the blessed 
morning of that long-desired day is now dawned 
upon it; the cumbersome night-veil is laid aside, 
and the garments of salvation and immortal glory 
are now put on. It hath passed through the trouble 
and darkness of a wearisome night, and now is 1 joy 
arrived with the morning,' as we may be permitted 
to allude to those words of the Psalmist, though that 
be not supposed to be the peculiar sense. It is 
now come into the world of realities, where things 
appear as they are ; no longer as in a dream or 
vision of the night. The vital quickening beams 
of Divine light are darting in upon it on every 
side, and turning it into their own likeness. The 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



405 



shadows of the evening are vanished, and fled 
away. 57 He adds, "It is the glory of a Christian 
to live so much above the world, that nothing in it 
may make him either fond of life, or weary of it : " 
a sentiment he frequently expresses in various 
forms ; nowhere more strikingly than in the words, 
• • We ought to be patient of the body, not fond of 
it." The brevity and point are worthy of an ancient 
aphorism. 

The remaining ten chapters of this noble work 
are devoted to an extensive "improvement" of the 
whole subject. Those from xiv. to xvn., but 
especially the last, are remarkable for that close, 
earnest urging home of the claims of religion, that 
faithful probing of the soul, which so often dis- 
tinguishes the Puritan writers; which chiefly sprang 
from their being so thoroughly in earnest them- 
selves, and which still renders them, in spite of 
diffuseness, tediousness, and formal divisions, among 
the most valuable writers on religious subjects. 
Even the most careless readers often find their 
earnestness infectious, and more impressive than 
the manner of far more polished authors. Seldom 
have the sophisms by which conscience cheats and 
juggles with itself been more faithfully exposed 
than in the seventeenth chapter. But they all con- 
tain passages of impressive, and often impassioned, 
eloquence : and indicate, in every part, the exalted 
conceptions the author had formed of that blessed- 
ness of which he had been treating ; the powerful 
manner in which the contemplation of it had already 
tended to transform his own nature ; the aspirations 



408 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



of soul with which he panted for it, and his earnest 
desire that others should partake it also. 

"The Vanity of Man as Mortal" is closely con- 
nected with the subject of the preceding treatise. 
It is founded on those words of the Psalmist, " Re- 
member how short my time is ; wherefore hast thou 
made all men in vain ?" It is a most felicitous and 
original train of reasoning, the object of which is to 
prove that, unless we suppose the nature of man im- 
mortal, and that this life is but the initiatory scene 
of his existence, we can imagine no adequate object 
for which the present system of things was projected 
He affirms, that if we exclude the idea of a future 
state, there is nothing in the condition of such a 
being as man, nothing in an eternal succession of 
such beings, which can render their creation worthy 
of the wisdom and goodness of Deity, or, rather, 
which is not inconsistent with both ; since, on such 
a supposition, a creature would be formed totally 
unfit for the sphere to which he is limited — filled 
with desires which cannot be gratified — endowed 
with faculties which cannot be adequately employed 
— and capable of forming conceptions of a happi- 
ness which he is destined never to realize. He 
conclusively shows, that none of the forms of merely 
earthly good (even if we dismiss the consideration 
of their transiency) are at all commensurate with 
the lofty aspirations and the boundless desires which 
fill the soul of man. He further shows, that if we 
suppose religion the prime element of good, the sum- 
mum honum destined for such an ephemeral creature, 
this would only increase the difficulty; since the 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



407 



Divine Being would be supposed to have created a 
being expressly for pleasures which this world can 
but imperfectly furnish, and for objects which can 
only be realized by that very immortality from 
which he is debarred. 

On the hypothesis, therefore, that man is merely 
mortal, there would be an evident and lamentable 
disproportion between the faculties with which he is 
endowed, and the sphere he is destined, to occupy ; 
— an absurdity of precisely the same kind, though 
it may not be so glaring, as if the capacities of an 
angel had been deposited in some ephemeral insect, 
to perish in the very day which gave them birth ! 
What would this be, but a prodigal waste of the 
power of God, and a gross reflection on his wisdom 
and benevolence ? 

It is evident, therefore, that this hypothesis leaves 
this lower universe an incomprehensible enigma. 

Mysteries there are in the proceedings of Pro- 
vidence, whatever theory be adopted ; but in such a 
theory they are not only multiplied and aggravated, 
they are rendered hopeless. The very possibility of 
any solution is excluded. In the view of a Christian, 
death is the period for which the solution of these 
mysteries is reserved ; if there be no future state, it 
seals them up in eternal darkness. 

This species of argument (together with another, 
on which this discourse does not touch — I mean the 
necessity of some great day of retribution) form per- 
haps the strongest proofs of the doctrine of a future 
state which mere human reason can supply. 

I have made a brief extract from this noble 



408 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



discourse in the preceding chapter. One or two 
more will not be unacceptable to the reader. It is 
thus Howe combats the notion that the acquisition 
of knowledge can be the adequate end of " man," if 
" mortal." After showing its limitation and its 
transiency, he thus insists on the fact that " increase 
of knowledge is also increase of sorrow," on which 
he descants in a spirit not unlike that of Pascal, nor 
unworthy of him. It is, he says — 

" Increase of sorrow, both because the objects of know- 
ledge do but increase the more man knows ; do multiply the 
more upon him, so as to beget a despair of ever knowing so 
much as he shall know himself to be ignorant of, and a thou- 
sand doubts about things he hath more deeply considered, 
which his more confident, undiscovered ignorance never 
dreamt of or suspected ; and thence an unquietness and irreso- 
lution of mind, which they that never drove at any such 
mark are, more contentedly, unacquainted with ; — and also, 
because that by how much knowledge hath refined a man's 
soul, so much it is more sensible and perceptive of trouble- 
some impressions from the disorderly state of things in the 
world: which they that converse only with earth and dirt 
have not spirits clarified and fine enough to receive. So that, 
except a man's knowing more than others were to be referred 
to another state, the labour of attaining thereto, and other 
accessory disadvantages, would hardly ever be compensated 
by the fruit or pleasure of it. And unless a man would sup- 
pose himself made for torment, he would be shrewdly tempted 
to think a quiet and drowsy ignorance a happier state." 

The supposition that religion can be the designed 
end of " man," if only u mortal," he rebuts by a 
most admirable series of arguments, of which we 
have space only for a fragment. 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



409 



"To think every time one enters that blessed presence, 'For 
aught I know, I shall approach it no more ; this is possibly 
my last sight of that pleasant face, my last taste of those 
enravishing pleasures ! } — what bitterness must this infuse 
into the most delicious sweetness our state could then admit ! 
And by how much more free, and large, grace should be in 
its present communications, and by how much any soul should 
be more experienced in the life of God, and inured to divine 
delights, so much the more grievous and afflictive resentments 
it could not but have of the approaching end of all, and be 
the more powerfully tempted to say, ' Lord, why was I made 
in vain ?",' 

On the spirit in which it becomes one really con- 
vinced that man is not " mortal " to conduct himself 
in this world of shadows, he descants thus grandly : — 

" It can surely no way become one who seeks and expects 
the ' honour and glory which is conjunct with immortality/ 
to be fond of the airy titles that poor mortals are wont to 
please themselves with ; or to make one among the obsequious, 
servile company of them whose business it is to court a 
vanishing shadow, and tempt a dignified trifle into the belief 
it is a deity ; to sneak and cringe for a smile from a super- 
cilious brow, and place his heaven in the disdainful favours of 
him who, it may be, places his own as much in thy homage, 
— so that it befalls into the supplicant's power to be his creator, 
whose creature he affects to be. What eye would not soon 
spy out the grossness of this absurdity ? and what ingenuity 
would not blush to be guilty of it ? Let then the joyful 
expectants of a blessed immortality pass by the husy 
throng of this fanciful exchange, and behold it with as 
little concern as a grave statesman would the sports and 
ludicrous actions of little children, and with as little inclina- 
tion of mind as he would have to leave his business and go 
play with them ; bestowing there only the transient glance of 
a careless or a compassionate eye, and still reserving their 

T 



410 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



intent, steady views for the ' glorious hope set before them/ 
And with a proportionable unconcernedness should they look 
on and behold the various alternations of political affairs ; no 
further minding either the constitution or administration of 
government, than as the interest of the Universal Euler, the 
weal and safety of their prince or country, are concerned in 
them. . . But that lofty soul that bears about with it the living 
apprehension of its being made for an everlasting state, so 
earnestly intends it, that it shall ever be a descent and vouch- 
safement with it, if it allow itself to take notice what busy 
mortals are doing in their — as they reckon them — grand 
negotiations here below ; and if there be a suspicion of an 
aptness or inclination to intermeddle in them to their preju- 
dice to whom that part belongs, can heartily say to it, as the 
philosopher to the jealous tyrant—' We of this academy are 
not at leisure to mind so mean things ; we have somewhat 
else to do than to talk of you.' He hath still the image 
before his eye of this world vanishing and passing away ; of 
the other, with the everlasting affairs and concernments of it 
even now ready to take place and fill up all the stage ; and, 
can represent to himself the vision, — not from a melancholic 
fancy or crazed brain, but a rational faith, and a sober, well- 
instructed mind, — of the world dissolving, monarchies and 
kingdoms breaking up, thrones tumbling, crowns and sceptres 
lying as neglected things." 

Robert Hall, it is well known, was an enthusiastic 
admirer of this discourse. He was in the habit of 
frequently preaching a sermon on the .same subject, 
and from the same words, which he was often, but 
in vain,' solicited to publish. On one occasion, he 
replied to the importunity of a friend, by candidly 
saying, " that he would find it all in John Howe." 
After his death, the outline of this beautiful sermon 
appeared, from the copious and accurate notes of the 



LIPE OF HOWE. 



411 



Eev. Tliomas Grrinfield.* Most of the thoughts, 
though not all, are in Howe's discourse; and the 
general resemblance throughout is most evident. 

It is singular that, though this discourse of Howe's 
was composed with more haste than almost any- 
thing that he ever wrote, f it is perhaps, as a whole, 
the most eloquent of all his productions. 

The treatise on " Divine Prescience," was written 
at the request of the Hon. Kobert Boyle, and ap- 
peared, as I have already mentioned, in 1677. It 
has also been mentioned, that "Wood, totally mistak- 
ing the great design of the work, represents the 
author as a " great and strict Arminian." I believe 
many other persons, far more likely to be skilled in 
metaphysical theology, have supposed that it is 
principally taken up with some of the points imme- 
diately at issue between the Calvinists and the 
Arminians ; whereas it is, in fact, an attempt to 
solve a difficulty with which both parties, or at least 
the moderate of both parties, are equally liable to 
be pressed ; that is, all who admit, on the one hand, 
the absolute certainty of the Divine foreknowledge, 
— no matter what may be their hypothesis as to the 
mode of that foreknowledge, — and, on the other, the 
responsibility of man, — no matter in what they 
make his responsibility to consist. That difficulty 
is, — to reconcile the certain foreknowledge of the Deity 
with his wisdom and sincerity in employing exhorta- 
tions, counsels, and other moral means, to deter men 

* Hall's Works, vol. vi 

+ See an account of the circumstances in which it was produced, in the 
fifth chapter. 

T 2 



412 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



from doing that which he knows they will certainly 
do, or to induce them to do that which he knows they 
will as certainly leave undone. With this difficulty, 
it is manifest, that all who fully admit the two great 
doctrines above mentioned, — no matter under what 
modifications, or by what variety of explication they 
attempt to reconcile them with one another, — are 
equally liable to be pressed. In this respect, there 
is no difference between the Arminian and the 
Calvinist, or between the Libertarian and the Neces- 
sarian. The one, while he refrains from forming 
any hypothesis as to the mode of the Divine fore- 
knowledge, admits its absolute certainty ; the other, 
while he contends that the certainty of that fore- 
knowledge depends on the infallible connexion 
between moral causes and effects, admits the doc- 
trine of human responsibility. In other words, they 
alike concede those two great doctrines, in which 
the difficulty Howe professes to discuss, originates, 
and may alike avail themselves of those profound and 
ingenious reasonings by which he attempts its solu- 
tion. None, in fact, are excluded from employing 
these reasonings, except those who, not being able 
to account for the certainty of the Divine foreknow- 
ledge on the hypothesis of the absolute contingency 
of human actions, divest the Deity of such an attri- 
bute altogether ; or those who, being unable to 
reconcile the absolute foreknowledge of God with 
the responsibility of man, represent us as the victims 
of a resistless necessity. 

To the first of these classes, such a book as Howe's 
would be manifestly useless; they do not need it; 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



413 



they have already got rid of the difficulty by a short 
but terrible process, which leaves Deity shorn of 
some of his most peculiar glories. Having stolen 
these Divine regalia, they can afford to dispense 
with the usual guards upon them. To the second 
class, the treatise must of course be totally unsatis- 
factory, since it is manifest that nothing can vindi- 
cate the wisdom and sincerity of Grod in exhorting 
and warning men to this or that course of conduct, 
when they are but the impotent slaves of an inexor- 
able destiny. They therefore, when consistent, 
deny that those warnings and exhortations are in- 
tended for all mankind. 

If any should be inclined to say, that, according 
to this representation, Howe's treatise leaves the 
main difficulties of Calvinism and Arminianism 
where it found them, this is true ; but then he did 
not pretend (at least in this treatise) to offer any- 
thing for their solution. He expressly disclaims any 
intention of ascending to those questions which 
would compel him to discuss the modes of the Divine 
foreknowledge, or to reconcile such foreknowledge 
with human accountability. All that he says on 
the subject of Divine " predetermination " also, is 
purely incidental, and solely respects his present 
inquiry. Further he does not pursue the subject. 

All that he denies, and all that it was necessary 
for him to deny, are these two propositions ; 1st, 
that there is no such attribute of the Divine nature 
as foreknowledge, and 2nd, that Grod, " being good 
and holy," should " irresistibly determine the wills 
of men to, and punish, the same thing;" "that he 



414 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



should irresistibly determine the will of a man to 
the hatred of his own most blessed self, and then 
exact severest punishments for the offence done." 
He took his stand on that point where both parties 
were agreed, — in admitting the absolute foreknow- 
ledge of Grod, and the moral accountability of man. 

It would have been deeply interesting, it is true, 
to have had the thoughts of a man so acute, and yet 
so comprehensive, so speculative, and yet so sober, 
on the difficult and long perplexed points to which 
I have above adverted, — if it were not those very 
qualities, rather, which induced him to abstain from 
such discussions ; but we certainly have no right to 
expect any such discussions in this little tractate. 
No one could more fully explain the exact nature and 
limits of the question he intended to treat. The very 
title at once show^s that his design is not to reconcile 
the attributes of the Divine, with any properties of 
the human, nature, — as, for example, the absolute fore- 
knowledge of God, with any hypothesis respecting 
the grounds of moral accountability ; — but to recon- 
cile the Divine character with itself — to show that it is 
consistent ; to prove that the absolute prescience of 
Grod is not at war with the wisdom and sincerity of 
his conduct. The title is, u The Eeconcilableness of 
Grod's Prescience of the sins of men, with the wis- 
dom and sincerity of his counsels, exhortations, and 
whatsoever other means he uses to prevent them." 

The following is a brief analysis of the contents of 
this admirable little work. 

After having very clearly laid down the limits 
within which he intends to confine himself, he pro- 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



415 



ceeds to caution us against the two-fold danger, of 
either attributing absolutely repugnant and contra- 
dictory properties to God, or of hastily determining 
that all are such which we are unable to reconcile 
with one another. Neither are we to conclude, 
on a hasty and indolent survey, that they are irre- 
concilable. The whole of this section is admirable. 

Howe next proceeds to affirm, that none of those 
attributes, the mutual harmony of which he is about 
to maintain, can be excluded from a just conception 
of the character of Grod ; that his moral perfections 
require us to believe his sincerity ; and his intellec- 
tual perfections, his wisdom and foreknowledge. 

Before going further, he deems it right to declare 
in what sense and to what extent he believes the 
efficacious influence and determination of the Divine 
will necessary to the production of human actions. 
It is necessary, he tells us, " to all actions in them- 
selves good and holy; but with reference to other 
actions, he doth only supply men with such a power 
as whereby they are enabled either to act, or, in 
many instances, (especially when they attempt any- 
thing that is evil,) to susjoend such actions." With 
reference to " all wicked actions," he denies the 
efficacious, irresistible determination of the Divine 
will altogether. 

As to the mode of the Divine foreknowledge, he 
declines saying anything ; the discussion of this 
topic being foreign to the present subject. He 
contents himself, therefore, with asserting that the 
perfection of Deity requires us to suppose that he 
possesses such an attribute. 



416 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



He then proceeds to enumerate the principal 
arguments by which he intends to meet the pro- 
posed difficulty. They are as follows. 

He maintains that on the supposition that man is 
accountable at all; that is, that there are duties 
which he is called to perform ; the Divine foreknow- 
ledge, let it be supposed ever so perfect, cannot 
annul human obligations, — there being no contrariety 
between them ; and, that as God is obliged to insist 
on the performance of those duties, his foreknow- 
ledge can in no way exempt him from the necessity 
of enjoining them. 

This is in analogy with all our conceptions of 
government, and is quite independent of the ques- 
tion of probable obedience or disobedience. The 
civil governor is perfectly certain that his laws will 
be in many cases violated and punishment incurred. 
If he. could actually divine the individual culprits, 
(as in many cases he may be morally certain of 
them) it would make no difference in his conduct ; 
he would still give his laws a universal promulgation. 

Again : Howe contends that as one of the great 
ends of the Divine " exhortations and counsels" to 
mankind is, to vindicate God's own character as sove- 
reign Euler ; to display the purity of his nature ; 
to impress the universe with the idea of his inflexible 
justice and equity ; and, it may be, to deter the 
loyal inhabitants of innumerable worlds from con- 
ceiving, through his silence, a disregard to his autho- 
rity, or a diminished dread of disobedience ; it was 
right, on these grounds, if on no other, that he 
should address to mankind such u warnings, coun- 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



417 



sels, and exhortations" as he has done ; quite irre- 
spectively of the reception they might meet with, 
and even upon the supposition that they would 
prove entirely futile. Now he argues, as many of 
these great ends are attained, it cannot be justly 
said, that it is inconsistent with the Divine wisdom 
to urge men to do that which he well knows, in 
many cases, they will never do. 

He further vindicates the Divine wisdom in issuing 
such " commands, exhortations, and counsels," by 
arguing, that though many to whom they are ad- 
dressed will never comply with them, vast multi- 
tudes will ; that with such design they are issued ; 
that in order to effect it, such " commands, exhorta- 
tions, and counsels" were necessarily addressed to 
all mankind, there being no possibility of avoiding 
this, except by making a distinct revelation of the 
individuals who would, or who would not, comply 
with them ; an expedient which would have implied 
the total subversion of the present system of Grod's 
moral government: 

He then proceeds to vindicate the sincerity of the 
Divine " counsels, exhortations, and commands" to 
all men. He remarks, that there can be no doubt 
of this, with regard to those who comply with them. 
With regard to those who do not, he argues, that 
God is, in an intelligible sense, truly ivilling that all 
men should be saved, and that it would be really 
grateful to the infinite benevolence of his nature, if 
they were all to accept the salvation which the 
gospel provides ; but that, though he is ivilling that 
all should be saved on such terms as the gospel 

T 3 



418 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



offers, and in a method that harmonizes with the 
intelligent and moral nature of man, he is not willing 
that they should be saved at any rate or in any 
method. 

Howe's sentiments on this subject may, I sup- 
pose, be illustrated in a very familiar manner. A 
parent is truly willing to reclaim a disobedient child, 
and to employ many apt methods for this purpose. 
But there is, at the same time, a point beyond which 
he will not go. He will not persist in his beneficent 
intention at all hazards ; he will not compromise his 
own character ; he will not expose his authority to 
the contempt of the rest of his family ; he will not 
procure obedience by concessions, which, though 
they might succeed probably in a single instance, 
might fearfully weaken his general authority. — Now 
what is more common than such a case ? — Do we 
not often really desire to attain a certain object, 
provided it can be attained only at a certain ex- 
pense ; and yet firmly resolve to forego it, if we find 
it cannot ? 

Thus it is, Howe argues, with Grod : there is a 
sense in which he really wills the salvation of all 
men ; and, in consequence, has sincerely provided all 
those means of moral suasion which are likely to 
operate on a reasonable creature ; but that, when 
men persist in refusing to yield to these, he resolves 
to do no more, and leaves them to the consequences 
of their own obstinacy. This, he contends, is his 
general conduct ; conduct by no means inconsistent 
with the supposition, that he may employ still 
" further and more efficacious means" for the reco- 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



419 



very of " some." The reasons which limit the 
employment of those means we know not. 

The " Calm and Sober Inquiry concerning the 
possibility of a Trinity in the Godhead/' was occa- 
sioned, as the title-page informs us, by some " lately 
published considerations " on the recent speculations 
of Wallis, Sherlock, South, and Cudworth, on the 
same subject. 

Many, who too hastily imagined that Howe's 
design was the same with that of some of the above 
writers; or that his object was to show the actual 
constitution of the Trinity, censured — as they justly 
might, had their opinion been well founded — the 
boldness of his speculations. But, in fact, he had 
no such design. His object is simply to prove that 
the idea of a Trinity involves nothing self-repug- 
nant or contradictory ; or, which is the same thing, 
that the Trinity is not, as Unitarians affirm, an 
impossibility. In order to illustrate his argument, 
he subjoins a particular explication of the Trinity, 
which, while it includes, as he affirms, all that is 
essential to the unity of Deity, excludes not such 
varieties in his mode of existence, as are necessary 
to the supposition of a Trinity. This explication, 
he does not pretend to say, is the true one : it 
being sufficient only to show that it involves no 
contradiction ; that it is possible. For since Unita- 
rians are called on to show the impossibility of a 
Trinity, any explication (no matter whether the 
true one or not) which includes all that is predi- 
cated of the Trinity, and cannot be proved self- 
repugnant or contradictory, would show their argu- 



420 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



nient to be fallacious. If a Trinity could subsist in 
such a way, it might, for aught we know, in other 
ways. 

At the same time, he very properly contends, 
that even if they were to show that his hypothesis 
did imply a contradiction, its refutation would only 
prove that particular explication false. The im- 
pugners of the doctrine would still be required to 
prove that a Trinity was impossible in every other 

That they are bound to show this impossibility, — 
to show that the very idea of the Trinity, how- 
soever explicated, and under all possible modifica- 
tions, involves a contradiction, — is a consequence, 
as Howe maintains, of the clearness with which the 
doctrine is asserted in Scripture. It is plainly 
taught in many passages ; it is as clearly implied in 
others ; it manifestly harmonizes with the whole 
tenor and strain of the inspired volume, and with 
the only interpretation of which a natural, unforced 
construction of its language admits. On the other 
hand, its complete expulsion from the sacred page, 
requires the most licentious and desperate system of 
criticism, and leaves the sacred volume, considered 
as " a revelation " of the few and simple doctrines 
of Socinianism, a mass of inscrutable perplexities. 
Under such circumstances, Howe justly argues, that 
nothing less than the most apparent necessity, — the 
utter impossibility of the truth of any such doc- 
trine, — could justify us in denying it. No mere d 
priori improbability in the doctrine itself — which, in- 
deed, it is admitted on all hands, is entirely matter 



LIFE OF HOWE. 421 

of revelation — will suffice : those who deny it, must 
prove its absolute, total impossibility. So that, in 
fact, the question is, as to whether we are more 
likely to be mistaken in deciding on the meaning of 
Scripture, or on the possibility of a Trinity in the 
Godhead ? 

One would think that, to a modest mind, the 
mere terms in which the question is propounded 
would be sufficient to determine it. In the one 
case, we are called to judge of a matter to which 
we are fairly competent ; in the other, to decide on 
a question which none but the Divine intellect 
could grasp : in the one case, we have only to pro- 
nounce on the meaning of a certain document, 
written in human language, with all the appliances 
of criticism to aid us ; and, in the other, invited to 
decide on a problem, the terms of which are possibi- 
lities and infinitudes ! If those superior intelligences, 
whose humility and modesty have kept pace with 
their knowledge, because every accession to their 
knowledge has only disclosed to them more of those 
illimitable regions of mystery which still lie in 
deep shadow beyond them, could regard the spec- 
tacle of human folly with any other feeling than 
that of benignant compassion, what boundless mer- 
riment would it afford them, to hear that the infini- 
tesimal soul of man, lodged in its prison-house of 
clay, had gravely pronounced on what can be, and 
on what cannot be, within the wide realms of possi- 
bility ; and, above all, in the constitution of the 
Infinite and Eternal Mind ! Unitarians, it is true, 
maintain that they have proved the doctrine of the 



422 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



Trinity an impossibility and contradiction, because 
it is admitted, that one cannot be three, nor three 
one ; a brief and summary demonstration. They 
nmst excuse us, however, for refusing to listen to 
this too obvious sophism. What they are called 
upon to demonstrate is, the impossibility that 
what is one in one sense, should be threefold in 
another : that the Divine unity is not compatible 
with any such distinctions in the mode of the Divine 
subsistence, (though we need not be ashamed to 
own that we are ignorant what those distinctions 
are,) on which the doctrine of the Trinity may be 
rationally defended. 

In the introductory paragraphs of the " Calni and 
Sober Inquiry," Howe states his object with great 
clearness and force. 

After premising, that whatever conceptions we 
form of God, that of necessary existence must be 
included, he proceeds to offer some admirable and 
eloquent remarks on those presumptuous specula- 
tions with respect to the simplicity of the Divine 
essence, which, originating in the schools, have 
done so much to perpetuate error on this subject. 

He then proceeds to his main object — to unfold 
his theory of the possibility of a Trinity. 

I am spared the necessity of attempting an ana- 
lysis of his reasoning, since he himself has appended 
to his discourse a series of " summary propositions, 
more briefly offering to view the substance of what 
is contained in it." Those which contain the lead- 
ing principles of his theory are given in the note.* 

* "We have among the creatures, and even in ourselves, instances of very 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



423 



To the " Calm and Sober Inquiry," Howe 
appended several letters, signed u Anonymus," 
originally addressed to Dr. Wallis, and written in 
1691. They are all explicatory of some of the 
points touched in the treatise itself. 

The " Calm and Sober Inquiry" involved its 
author in controversy. He was compelled to pub- 
lish two pieces in its defence. The first was en- 
titled, U A Letter to a Friend, concerning a Post- 
script to the Defence of Dr. Sherlock's Notion of the 
< Trinity in Unity.' " 

The second was entitled, "A View of that part of 
the late Considerations, addressed to H. H., about 
the Trinity, which concerns the Sober Inquiry on 
that subject." These pieces contain only a further 

diferent natures contimving disthict, but so united as to be one thing ; and it 
were more easily supposable of congenerous natures. 

••It such union with distinction be impossible in the Godhead, it must not 
be from any repugnancy in the thing itself, since very intimate imion, with 
continuing distinction, is in itself no impossible thing ; but from somewhat 
peculiar to the Divine Being. 

"That peculiarity, since it cannot be unity (which because it may admit 
distinctions in one and the same thing, we are not sure it cannot be so in the 
Godhead) must be that simplicity commonly wont to be ascribed to the 
Divine nature. 

' ' Such simplicity as shall exclude that distinction which shall appear 
necessary in the present case, is not by expressed Scripture anywhere as- 
cribed to God ; and therefore must be rationally demonstrated of him, if it 
shall be judged to belong at all to him * * * * 

"It is not a just consequence, — which is the most plausible one that seems 
capable of being alleged for such absolute simplicity, — that otherwise there 
would be a composition admitted in the Divine nature, which would import 
an imperfection inconsistent with Deity. For the several excellencies that 
concur in it, (howsoever distinguished, ) being never put together, nor having 
ever existed apart, but in eternal necessary union, though they may make some 
sort of variety, import no proper composition, and carry with them more 
apparent perfection, than absolute, omnhnodous simplicity can be con- 
ceived to do.*' 



424 



life; OF HOWE. 



exposition and defence of what he had already 
advanced. 

The " Redeemer's Tears wept over Lost Souls," 
is deservedly ranked amongst the most valuable 
pieces of practical divinity in the English language. 
It is founded on Luke xix. 41: "And when he 
was come near, he beheld the city, and wept 
over it, saying, If thou hadst known, even thou, 
at least in this thy day, the things which belong 
unto thy peace ! but now they are hid from thine 
eyes." 

The first part strikingly corroborates the remarks 
made in a preceding chapter, on Howe's defects of 
method. The introductory paragraphs are, it is 
true, eminently beautiful : but the division of the 
text, and the distribution of matter, are exceedingly 
formal and needlessly minute. The first and second 
topics of the discourse, moreover, are pursued to a 
far greater length than they need have been. They 
consist, for the most part, of a long, and, consi- 
dering the main object of the discourse, a most dis- 
proportionate exposition of all those great truths 
and doctrines which the gospel reveals, which " be- 
long to men's peace," and the knowledge of which 
constitutes "'their day." I have always regretted 
the disproportionate length of this part. Many 
readers, I fear, have been tempted from this cir- 
cumstance, to throw the work aside, only half 
perused. 

The concluding portions of the work are in his 
best style. 

The descriptions of the fearfully narrow limits of 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



425 



that day, which is to decide our eternal destinies ; of 
the possibility — inferred from the text — that it may 
be over with men even before the day of life is itself 
spent ; of the obdurate, self- infatuated state of those 
from whom the Spirit of life and of peace is de- 
parted, never to return ; of the horror which the 
bare contemplation of such a state should inspire ; 
are full of terrific sublimity, interspersed with 
touches of the most subduing tenderness. — And 
how beautifully, after dwelling on these dreadful 
themes, and inculcating those fearful lessons with 
which they are pregnant, does he proceed to ad- 
dress those, who suppose that they have already 
fallen into such a state, and who, oppressed with 
this horrible imagination, dwell even in this world 
on the confines of hell ! How reviving and conso- 
latory are the assurances that the very doubts and 
fears which torment such persons, their very jea- 
lousies, and salutary misgivings of heart, are totally 
inconsistent with the supposition of their having 
fallen into a state of which torpor of conscience is 
the most melancholy and fatal symptom, — thus 
converting into hope the very suggestions of 
despair ! 

I should think it unpardonable in a volume of 
this kind if I omitted to point the reader's attention 
to the close of this discourse. For profound yet 
simple pathos, — pathos the more affecting because 
so simple, — for felicitous turns of thought, and even 
for beauty of expression, it will bear comparison with 
almost anything in the whole range of hortatory 
eloquence. 



426 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



The concluding sentences are as follow : — 

" These tears show the remedilessness of thy case, if thou 
persist in impenitency and unbelief till the things of thy 
peace be quite hid from thine eyes. These tears will then 
be the last issues of even defeated love, — of love that is 
frustrated of its kind design. Thou mayest perceive in these 
tears the steady, unalterable laws of heaven, the inflexibleness 
of the Divine justice, that holds thee in adamantine bonds, 
and hath sealed thee up, if thou prove incurably obstinate 
and impenitent, unto perdition ; so that even the Redeemer 
himself, he that is mighty to save, cannot at length save thee, 
but only weep over thee, drop tears into thy flame, which 
assuage it not, but, (though they have another design, even 
to express true compassion,) do yet unavoidably heighten and 
increase the fervour of it, and will do so to all eternity. He 
even tells thee, ' Sinner, thou hast despised my blood ; thou 
shalt yet have my tears. That would have saved thee ; these 
do only lament thee lost ! ' 

"But the tears wept over others as lost and past hope, why 
should they not yet melt thee, while as yet there is hope in 
thy case ? If thou be effectually melted in thy very soul, 
and looking to him whom thou hast pierced, dost truly mourn 
over him, thou mayest assure th}^self the prospect his weeping 
eye had of lost souls did not include thee. His weeping 
over thee would argue thy case forlorn and hopeless ; thy 
mourning over him will make it safe and happy. That it 
may be so, consider further, that, — 

" They signify how very intent he is to save souls, and 
how gladly he would save thine, if yet thou wilt accept 
of mercy while it may be had. For if he weep over them 
that will not be saved, from the same love that is the spring 
of these tears would saving mercies proceed to those that 
are become willing to receive them. And that love that 
wept over them that were lost, how will it glory in them 
that are saved ! There his love is disappointed and vexed, 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



427 



crossed in his gracious intendment; but here, having com- 
passed it, ' how will he joy over thee with singing, and 
rest in his love ! ' And thou also, instead of being in- 
volved in a like ruin with the unreconciled sinners of the 
old Jerusalem, shalt be enrolled among the glorious citizens 
of the new, and triumph together with them in eternal 
glory." 

To this " discourse" is added an appendix on two 
points involved in the discussion of the text ; " On 
the Blasphemy" against the Holy Ghost/' and " How 
God is said to will the salvation of those that 
perish," On the first of these he most judiciously 
argues, that none have cause to conclude that they 
are certainly involved in such guilt ; on the second, 
he insists on the same views as are unfolded in his 
treatise on the u Divine Prescience," and to these I 
have already adverted. 

" The Redeemer's Dominion over the Invisible 
World," is the last publication which requires any 
specific notice. The occasion on which the outline 
of this magnificent discourse* was preached, has 
been already referred to. As it was one of the last, 
so it is one of the richest and maturest fruits of our 
author's genius. 

It is founded on those words of the Redeemer, " I 
have the keys of death and of hell." In a long and 
very able marginal digression, he shows that the 

* I observe Dean Trench applies a similar epithet to this discourse, which 
for range, elevation, and nobleness of thought, well deserves to be so 
characterized: "Howe's grand sermon on the Redeemer's Dominion over 
the Invisible World." — Trench, on the " Authorized Version of the New 
Testament," p. 21. 



428 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



word "hell, is a very erroneous, or, rather, inade- 
quate translation of the original word, — and that it 
ought to be rendered, in accordance with its ety- 
mology and more usual meaning, "the invisible 
world." 

I do not think that any man who has any, even 
though a faltering and inconstant hope that he is a 
Christian , and that to him death will be but admis- 
sion into heaven, can peruse this discourse without 
feeling the dread of dissolution sensibly diminished ; 
— nay, the grave itself rendered in his better moods 
almost an object of desire and fascination. The 
descriptions which its author gives of that invisible 
world to which he leads our contemplation ; of its 
splendour and magnificence ; of the felicity it pro- 
mises and insures ; of the plenitude of life which 
fills it, instead of the solitude and silence, the dark- 
ness and desertion, with which our imaginations are 
so apt to invest it; of that great and beneficent 
Being, whom it describes as Sovereign Lord of it, — 
who has already passed into it by the same dreary 
path, — who is familiarized to us by intimate com- 
munion with humanity, — whose own gracious hand 
unlocks the portals which are to admit us to immor- 
tality, and whose voice it is which first welcomes 
the spirit to its resting place ; — are absolutely ra- 
vishing. On these themes, Howe seems to descant 
with a sort of privileged familiarity ; as of a spirit 
to whom the scenery of heaven had been already 
unfolded. Yet, glowing as his descriptions are, 
they contain nothing to which a sober and chas= 
tened judgment can take exception ; nothing at 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



429 



variance with the reserve which the comparative 
silence of Scripture, on all such topics, should 
impose on our speculations. 

A few brief extracts we must find space for. 

On the ultimate purpose of the gospel, its enfran- 
chisement of man from the dominion of sin, (and 
to suppose less would be to imagine man " re- 
deemed," without " any redemption,") he has the 
following striking observations : — 

" Had it been otherwise, so firm and indissoluble is the con- 
nexion between our duty and our felicity, that the Sovereign 
Ruler bad been eternally injured, and we not advantaged. 
Were we to have been set free from the preceptive obligation 
of God's holy law, and most of all from that most fundamen- 
tal precept, ' Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thine 
heart, soul, might, and mind/ — had this been redemption, 
which supposes only what is evil and hurtful, as that we are to 
be redeemed from — this were a strange sort of self- repugnant 
redemption, not from sin and misery, but from our duty and 
felicity. This were so to be redeemed as to be still lost, and 
every way lost ; both to God and to ourselves for ever. 
Redeemed from loving God ! what a monstrous thought ! . . 
This had been to legitimate everlasting enmity and rebellion 
against the blessed God, and to redeem us into an eternal hell 
of horror and misery to ourselves. This had been to cut off 
from the Supreme Ruler of the world, for ever, so considerable 
a limb of his most rightful dominion, and to leave us as 
miserable as everlasting separation from the fountain of life 
and blessedness could make us." 

So saving us, Christ " would save us to the eternal 
wrong of Him that made us, and so as we should 
be nothing the better; that is, he should save us 
without saving us ! " 



430 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



On the composure with which the Christian 
should consign himself to the disposal of Him " who 
liveth," but himself once died, and now has the 
" keys of Hades and of Death," he thus beautifully 
discourses : — 

" Do not regret or dread to pass out of the one world into 
the other at his call and under his conduct, though through 
the dark passage of death ; remembering the keys are in so 
great and so kind a hand ; and that his good pleasure herein 
is no more to he distrusted, than to be disputed or withstood. 
Let it be enough to you, that what you cannot see yourself, 
he sees for you. You have oft desired your ways, your 
motions, your removals from place to place, might be directed 
by Him in the world. Have you never said, ' If thou go not 
with me, carry me not hence ? ' How safely and fearlessly 
may you follow him blindfold, or in the dark, any whither ; 
not only from place to place in this world, but from world to 
world, how lightsome soever the one, and gloomy and dark 
the other may seem to you ! ' Darkness and light are to him 
alike/ To him Hades is no Hades, nor is the dark way that 
leads into it to him an untrodden path. Shrink not at the 
thoughts of this translation, though it be not by escaping 
death, but even through the jaws of it." 

Among the reasons which may determine the 
Supreme Disposer in the, to us mysterious, removal 
of " hopeful young persons," in the blossom of their 
life and the promise of much usefulness ; he assigns 
the following as one : and the expression is as beau- 
tiful as the thought is impressive : — 

" He will have it known, that though he uses instruments, 
he needs them not. It is a piece of Divine royalty and mag- 
nificence, that when he hath prepared and polished such an 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



431 



utensil, so as to be capable of great service, lie can lay it 
aside without loss. They that are most qualified to be of 
greatest use in this world, are thereby also the more ca- 
pable of blessedness in the other. It is owing to his most 
mimiricent bounty that he may vouchsafe to reward sincere 
intentions, as hio-hlv as great services. He took David's 
having it ' in his heart to build him a house,' as kindly as 
Solomon's building him one ; and as much magnifies himself 
in testifying his acceptance of such as he discharges from his 
service here at 'the third hour,' as of them whom he enlaces 

not in it till 'the eleventh.' Moreover, ' the lustre of 

that virtue and piety which had provoked nobody, appears 
only with an amiable look, and leaves behind nothing of such 
a person, but a fair, mibleniished, alluring, and instructive 
example.' " 

On the extent of the " Redeemer's dominion" as 
Lord of the Hades, the vast invisible world, he 
says, that it is a matter of " duty in us 3 and for His 
just honour, to magnify this his Prefecture " 

" But it is no obscure hint that is given of the spaciousness 
of the heavenly regions, when purposely to represent the 
Divine immensity, it is said of the unconfined presence of the 
great (rod, that even 'heaven, and the heaven of heavens 
cannot contain him.' How vast scope is given to our thinking 
minds to conceive heavens above heavens, encircling one 
another, till we have quite tired our faculty, and yet we know 
not how far short we are of the utmost verge ! And when 
our Lord is said to have ascended far above all heavens, 
whose arithmetic will suffice to tell how many they are ? whose 

uranography to describe how far that is And when 

we are told of many heavens, above all which our Lord Jesus 
is said to have ascended, are all those heavens only empty 

solitudes ? iminhabited glorious deserts ? And they 

that rest not night or day from such high and glorious 



432 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



employment, have they nothing to do ? or will we say or 
think it, because we see not how the heavenly potentates lead 
on their bright legions to present themselves before the throne, 
to tender their obeisance, or receive commands and dispatches 
to this or that far remote dynasty ; or, suppose, to such and 
such a mighty star whereof there are so numberless myriads, 
— and why should we suppose them not replenished with 
glorious inhabitants ? — whither they fly as quick as thought, 
with joyful speed, under the all-seeing eye ?. . . . But, alas ! 
in all this we can but ' darken counsel by words without 
knowledge.' We cannot pretend to knowledge in these things ; 
yet if from Scripture intimations and the concurrent reason 
of things, we only make suppositions of what may be, not 
conclusions of what is, — let our thoughts ascend as much 
higher as they can, I see not why they should fall lower 
than all this." 

There are a few minor pieces of Howe, of which 
my space will not permit me to give an analysis ; 
but I may just enumerate some of those which 
are most characteristic of his genius, and most 
worthy of the reader's perusal. Among these I 
would specify his sermons on " Thoughtfulness for 
the Morrow;" " Of Charity in reference to other 
Men's Sins;" and " On Man's Creation in a Holy 
but Mutable State." Several also of the " Funeral 
Sermons" fully sustain his reputation. They, of 
course, possess very different degrees of merit ; but 
there is hardly one which is not worthy of attentive 
perusal. Those for Queen Mary, Dr. Bates, and 
Mr. Fairclough, are noble productions, and will 
suffer little by comparison with any other composi- 
tions of the same kind. 

It may be added that the funeral discourses of 



LIFE OF HOWE, 



433 



Howe have one feature which distinguishes them 
very favourably from most compositions of the 
same kind. They are full of vivid and novel 
thoughts in the application. Consolation is not ex- 
pressed in commonplaces of ordinary condolence ; 
nor counsels and warnings, in the platitudes usually 
suggested by funeral solemnities. The conclusion 
is in general full of turns of thought which strike 
at once by their combined truth and novelty, and 
is almost cheerful with animating hopes drawn from 
the deepest experience that Christ had indeed van- 
quished Death, and " brought Life and Immortality 
to light." This feature distinguishes not only those 
two more memorable sermons (or rather treatises) 
entitled " The Vanity of Man as Mortal," and " The 
Redeemer's Dominion over the Invisible World," 
but the funeral discourses generally; and on this 
account they are worthy of attentive study by every 
preacher. I am tempted to give a few brief speci- 
mens. The following striking sentences close the 
sermon for his friend, the Rev. Mr. Fairclough : — 

" Yea, and it may incline us to have somewhat the kinder 
thoughts of this our meaner native element, and less to 
regret that our earthly part should dissolve and incorporate 
with it, to think what rich treasure, what shrines of a lately- 
inhabiting Deity (now become sacred dust) it hath from time 
to time received, and transmuted into itself. How volumi- 
nously have some written of 'Roma Subterranea ; ' of the tombs 
of martyrs, and other excellent persons, as many of them were, 
collected in one little spot of this earth ! And if there were 
as particular an account of the more refined part of the sub- 
terraneous London, much more of all places where just and 
holy men have dropt and deposed their earthly tabernacles, 

U 



434 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



how would our earth appear ennobled, and even hallowed, by- 
such continual accessions to it, in all times and ages ! What 
a glorious host will arise and spring up, even out of one 
London ! Is not the grave now a less gloomy thing ? Who 
would grudge to lie obscurely a while among them with 
whom we expect to rise and ascend so gloriously ? " 

In the following passage of the funeral sermon for 
Mrs. Baxter he has the following original thoughts 
on the duty of familiarizing ourselves with the 
idea of dissolution : — 

" Yea, and we should endeavour to make the thoughts 
more familiar to ourselves, of spiritual beings in the general, 
for we are to serve and converse with him in a glorious 
community of such creatures ; ' an innumerable company 
of angels, the general assembly and church of the first- 
born, and the spirits of just men made perfect/ in a region 
where an earthly body, remaining such, can have no place. 
Why do we make the thoughts of a spirit, out of a body, 
so strange to ourselves ? We meet with hundreds of spirits 
in bodies, and moving bodies to and fro, in the streets every 
day, and are not startled at it. Is a body so much nearer 
akin to us than a spirit, that we must have so mean a thing 
to come between, to mediate and reconcile us to it ? Why are 
we afraid of what we are so nearly allied unto ? Can we not 
endure to see or think of a man at liberty, (suppose it were a 
friend or brother,) if we ourselves were in prison? The more 
easy you make the apprehension to yourselves of a disem- 
bodied spirit that is free, — I mean, of any terrestrial body, — 
the better we shall relish the thoughts of him who is the head 
of that glorious society you are to be gathered unto ; ' for 
the Lord is that Spirit/ the eminent, almighty, and all- go- 
verning Spirit, to be ever beheld, too, in his glorified body, 
as an eternal monument of his undertaking for us, and an 
assuring endearment of his relation to us." 

In the sermon on Mrs. Esther Sampson, he thus 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



435 



reproves that selfish sorrow which repines at the 
Divine arrest when laid on those dear to us, and 
which, come when it may, is always counted too 
early. Howe strikingly represents the unreason- 
ableness of it by showing its contrariety to all the 
Christian's professed hopes and aims, and by re- 
minding us that if all had their wish in this matter, 
heaven must remain an unpeopled region, the great 
designs of redemption unachieved, and Christ occupy 
his throne in solitude. 

"It is little considered how opposite such a temper of 
spirit, as commonly appears in us, is to the very design of all 
Christianity. For doth not the whole of Christianity ter- 
minate upon eternity, and upon another state and world? 
Now do but consider the inconsistencies that are to be found 
in this case between the carriage and temper of many that 
profess Christianity and their very profession itself. They 
acknowledge, they own, that the design of Christ's appearing 
here in this world, and of his dying upon the cross, was to 
' bring us to God,' to ' bring the many sons to glory.' They 
grant that this is not to be done all at once, not all in a day, 
but it is to be done by degrees. Here he takes up one, and 
there another, leaving others still to transmit religion, and to 
continue it on to the end of time. So far they agree with 
our common Lord, and seem to approve the Divine determi- 
nations in all these steps of his procedure. But yet, for all 
this, if they might have their own will, Christ should not 
have one to ascend to him of those for whom he died and 
himself ascended, to open heaven for them and to prepare a 
place for their reception, as their forerunner, there. I say 
not one to ascend after him ; for they take up with a general 
approving of this design of his. ' Very well/ say they, ' it is 
fitly ordered, his method is wise, and just, and kind, and let 
him take them that belong to him when he thinks fit, only 
let him excuse my family ; let him take whom he will, only 

u 2 



436 



LIFE OF HOWE. 



let him touch no relation of mine, not my husband, wife, 
child, brother, sister; take whom he will, but let all mine 
alone. I agree to all he shall do well enough, only let him 
allow me my exception.' But if everyone be of this temper 
and resolution for themselves and theirs, according to this 
tendency and course of things he shall have none at all to 
ascend, none ' to bring with him ' when he returns. Those 
that are dead in Jesus he is to bring with him. No, he 
should be solitary and unattended for all them. They and 
all their relations would be immortal upon earth. How ill 
doth this agree and accord with the Christian scheme and 
model of things !"* 

The concluding sentences of this sermon, in which 
he declares he would rather die alone than amidst 
the clamorous sorrows of relatives who " despair of 
futurity," are most characteristic. 

" In short, it were desirable, if God see good, to die amidst 
the pleasant friends and relatives .who were not ill pleased 
that we lived,- — that living and dying breath might mingle 
and ascend together in prayers and praises to the blessed 
Lord of heaven and earth, the God of our lives, — if then we 
would part with consent, a rational and a joyful consent. 
Otherwise, to die with ceremony, to die amongst the fashion- 
able bemoanings and lamentations, as if we despaired of 
futurity, one would say, with humble submission to the 
Divine pleasure, ' Lord, let me rather die alone, in perfect 
solitude, in some unfrequented wood, or on the top of some 
far remote mountain, where none might interrupt the solemn 
transactions between thy glorious blessed self, and my joy- 
fully departing self-resign ing soul ! 9 But in all this we 
must refer ourselves to God's holy pleasure, who will dispose 
of us, living and dying, in the best, the wisest, and the 
kindest way." 

* " If," he says, in another place, speaking of those to whom we clonbt 
not "death is gain 1 ' — " If God be pleased,, and His happy creature pleased, 
who are we that we should be displeased ?" 



APPENDIX. 



No. L 

A few particulars respecting Howe's family and descendants : — 

It has been mentioned in Chap. II. that Howe's father was 
educated by Francis Higginson, of Leicester. An account of 
Higginson may be found in Brooke's " Lives of the Puritans," 
vol. i. p. 372. 

Higginson went to New England in 1629, with about two 
hundred passengers and planters : some settled at Nehuintak, 
afterwards Salem ; some at Massachusetts bay. 

Whether Howe's father possessed the living of Loughborough, 
or was merely curate, is a point that cannot be ascertained. 
Calamy says that he was appointed by Laud, minister of the 
parish of Loughborough. The living was then in the gift of Lady 
Bromley. 

There is no authenticated list of the rectors of Loughborough. 
In a book of miscellanies collated and written by the late clerk 
from various parish records, is a list of rectors in which the name 
of Howe does not appear. The list states "John Brown, 1597, — 
buried 1622-3. John Brown, 1623,— buried Oct. 7, 1642." 

In the register of our author's baptism (given below) the father 
is mentioned as Mr. John How, preacher. 

Probably he never was inducted into the living as rector, but 
was appointed by Laud to preach in the room of the above John 
Brown, who might, for some reason, be silenced for a time. 

The following is the register of the baptism of two of his 
children, that of his son John, the subject of these memoirs, and 
of a daughter ; whether he had any other children I know not. 



438 



APPENDIX. 



"July, 1628, Ann How, daughter of Mr. John How, preacher, 
baptd. x day." 

" May, 1630, John How, sonne of Mr. John How, bapt. xx day." 

In both entries the final e is left out of the father's name. 
Indeed, Howe himself spelt his name sometimes with and some- 
times without it, except in the latter part of his life, when he 
always spelt it "Howe." Marvell, in his tract against Danson, 
always calls him How. 

The volume from which the register is taken is a very curious 
one, and perhaps as old as any in the kingdom. It extends from 
1538 to 1651. 

A paragraph at the commencement intimates that it was begun 
and kept "according to the command of our Sovereign Lord King 
Henry the 8th." 

The volume is parchment, much discoloured in various places, 
and written throughout in antiquated but very legible hands. 

Mr. Howe's marriage with Katherine, daughter of his intimate 
friend the Rev. George Hughes, of Plymouth, took place March 
1st, 1654. Several of his children were born in London during his 
residence at Whitehall, but of the exact dates of their i-espective 
births no information has been obtained. 

His eldest son, George, studied medicine ; received the diploma 
of M.D., and afterwards practised in Loudon with considerable 
reputation and success. He married Laetitia Foley, probably 
daughter of Thos. Foley, Esq., of Whitley Court, in the county of 
Worcester, who is honourably mentioned in Baxter's Life. He died 
in March, about 1710, leaving two sons, John (the elder) and 
Philip, who both died before 1729, without issue male. He was 
buried in the same vault with his father, in Allhallows Church, 
Bread-street. 

Mr. Howe's second son was named James he studied the law ; 
was of the Middle Temple, and was in due time called to the bar. 
He married Mary, daughter of Samuel Saunders, Esq., of Little 
Ireton and Caldwell, in the county of Derby, eldest son of Col. 
Thomas Saunders, a military officer of some celebrity on the Par- 
liament side during the Civil Wars. He practised his profession 
with so much success, that it appears he acquired considerable 
property. He died April 12, 1714, leaving three sons, John, 
Samuel, and James. John, his eldest son and heir, was of Hanslop, 



APPENDIX. 



439 



in the county of Buckingham. He attained the age of 21, about 
1729, and married the Hon. Caroline Howe, daughter of the lit. 
Hon. Scroop Lord Yiscount Howe. In 1754 he is described as of 
Burrow Green, in the county of Surrey. He died in Sept. 1769. 

Mr. Howe's third son was named John. No particulars are 
known concerning him. Whom he married does not appear, nor 
when he died ; but he left two sons, John and James. 

Another son, named Obadiah, was born at Torrington, 1661, 
and baptized at the church, April 21st, in that year, He probably 
died in childhood or youth. 

A daughter, named Philippa, was born towards the end of 1664, 
and baptized at Torrington Church, January 4, 1665. She was 
afterwards married to Mr. Matthew Collett, who held some situa- 
tion in the Bank of England. When she died does not appear, 
but she left two sons, John, the elder, and Matthew : the latter 
was dead in 1754. 

When Mr. Howe's wife Katherine (who was the mother of the 
two last, and, I have no doubt, of all the children mentioned 
above) died, there is now no means of ascertaining : but that he 
married again is beyond question. The date of Mrs. Howe's death, 
given be]ow, proves this • and that she must have been many years 
younger than Howe. J ames Howe, the second son, makes mention, 
in his Will, of his own mother. Who was Howe's second wife is 
not cei-tain. 

Mr. Howe's widow, as I learn from a letter printed in the "Diary 
and Correspondence of Dr. Doddridge," died at Bath, toward 
the end of February, 1743, at a very advanced age,* 

No. II, 

The following is Calamy's account of the treatment of John 
Howe's father by Archbishop Laud : — 

"As to the father of our Mr. Howe, he was settled in the parish of 
Loughborough by Archbishop Laud, and afterwards thrust out by the 
same hand, on the account of his siding with the Puritans, contrary to the 



* ' ' Mrs. How, widow of the great and pious Mr. How, died here last 
week ; a good woman and full of years, being near ninety." — Letter to 
Mrs. Doddridge, dated Bath, March 2nd, 1743. 



440 



APPENDIX. 



expectation of his promoter. He was one of those who could not be 
satisfied to give in to that nice and punctilious conformity, upon which that 
prelate laid so great a stress ; and therefore it was not thought fit to suffer 
him to continue in the exercise of his ministry in that populous town. 
Great was the rigour that was at that time used in the ecclesiastical courts, 
by which as several were driven into America, and others into Holland and 
other foreign parts, so was this worthy person, from whom Mr. John Howe 
immediately descended, driven into Ireland, whither he took this his son, 
(then very young) along with him. While they continued in that country, 
that execrable rebellion broke out, in which so many thousands of the poor 
Protestants, who were altogether unprovided, were so miserably butchered, 
and a great number of flourishing families ruined and undone by the enraged 
papists, whose very tenderest mercies were found to be cruelty. 

"Both father and son were at that time exposed to very threatening danger, 
the place to which they had retired being for several weeks together besieged 
and assaulted by the rebels, though without success. A very special Pro- 
vidence did upon this occasion guard that life, which was afterwards made 
so serviceable to great and considerable purposes. Being driven from 
thence by the war, which continued for some years, the father returned 
back to his native country, and settled in the County Palatine of Lancaster ; 
and there it was that our Mr. Howe went through the first rudiments of 
learning, and was trained up in the knowledge of the tongues, though I have 
not been able to get any certain information who were his particular in- 
structors, nor any further notices relating to his infancy and childhood. " — 
Calamy's Life of Howe, pp. 6, 7. These last points are in part determined 
by the following article of the Appendix. 

No. III. 

The following is the extract from the register at Cambridge, 
alluded to at p. 19. "A°. Domi. 1647. Mai. 19°. Johannes 
Howe, films Johannis p r .sbyteri, natus Loughborough, in agro 
Leicestrensi, Literis v. institutus Winwick a M ro . Gorse, Anno 
iEtatis decinio septimo admissus est sizator sub M ro . Field, spon- 
dente pro eo M ro . Ball. Solvit Collegio 5 1" 

No. IV.— p. 43. 

Here several pages of the former edition, containing remarks on 
Cromwell's character, have been omitted, not only as irrelevant, 
but as conveying a harsher judgment than subsequent study, and, 
I hope, a larger charity, will allow me to express. At the same 
time, I confess that the problem of the Protector's religious 
character still seems to me, as to multitudes more, as insoluble as 
ever. When twenty-five years ago, I published the first edition, 



APPENDIX. 



441 



I was not insensible, and still less am I now, of the many illus- 
trious qualities which adorned this extraordinary man ; it was 
admitted that he was no "mere fanatic," still less, a vulgar " hypo- 
crite ; " it was admitted, as his apologists assert, that he did not 
"employ his power for the gratification of malignant passions;" 
that "his character will more than sustain comparison with that 
of any other usurper ; " that if " the gratification of his ambition 
seemed to be his first object, he seems to have been really desirous 
to render his ambition subservient, as far as possible, to the glory 
and welfare of his country ; " and that " his conduct often indi- 
cates traits of magnanimity, clemency, and moderation, which gild 
no other pages in the dark annals of usurpation." All this I still 
believe • but whether it be possible to reconcile his career from 
1647 to his death, his acts of violence and dissimulation — the acts 
by which he gathered into his single hand the entire liberties of his 
country, and made and unmade constitutions at his pleasure, — with 
a then active religion, I confess very doubtful. We are happily not 
called on to form any absolute judgment in the matter, and should 
certainly abstain from any uncharitable and presumptuous judg- 
ment on his final state. He may have been sincerely religious in 
his early life, and before temptation so severely taxed him, and he 
may have recovered from his lapse before he died ; for even behind 
"the curtains of a death-bed," as Cowper says, with no less 
charity than beauty, "there is often a work going on, of which 
doctor and nurse know nothing." 

While it is assuredly difficult to reconcile many parts of Crom- 
well's conduct with the conscious integrity of a Christian, many 
facts seem to forbid a harsh judgment. On the whole, the entire 
phenomena seem best accounted for by supposing — what experience 
shows to be only too common in less illustrious men — a mind warped 
from rectitude, and a conscience partially silenced, before the in- 
fluences of ambition and worldly prosperity. It may be said that 
it is a narrow and vulgar way to judge the actions of such a man as 
Cromwell by the ordinary standard of moral obligation, and that 
political necessities must have their own ethics. I am sure that it 
is still more narrow and vulgar to concede to great genius, merely 
because it is such, an indulgence which we refuse to concede to 
ordinary men. This is, in fact, that mere idolatry of power and 
intellect which too often condones to the successful great the 

D 3 



442 



APPENDIX. 



crimes for which it would hang other people ; and which robs 
history and biography of their most instructive lessons. In general, 
censure ought to be more severe in the case of great minds- ; for 

.perior intelligence must increase, not diminish, responsibility. 
3ut, at all events, in considering whether a man has consistently 
;acted the Christian, or been warped from his integrity, we are not 
at liberty to employ any of the tortuous apologetics which have 
been so usually at the service of splendid successes. 

" The genius of Christianity," to adopt expressions in the former 
edition, " pays no deference to mere greatness ; it prescribes 
exactly the same rules of conduct to all ; no power can terrify, no 
splendour can dazzle it ; with sublime indifference to all that 
bewilders and perverts the judgment of this world's too compliant 
moralists, it considers guilt on the throne precisely in the same 
light with guilt on the scaffold." It "refuses to set off the prac- 
tice of certain virtues, be they ever so imposing and splendid, 
against the commission of great crimes;" it is not disposed "to 
palliate such crimes by alleging that, considering the circum- 
stances, they were not so frequent or so enormous as they might 
have been ; " or " to plead any, even the most pressing exigencies, 
as an apology for violations of the eternal laws of truth and 

rectitude Now the apologists of Cromwell sometimes forget 

this. They admit he was ambitious ; but then his power was 
generally exerted for the benefit of his country. He did often 
dissemble, but dissimulation was better than cruelty. If some- 
times arbitrary and tyrannical, we are told not to forget the neces- 
sities of his situation, and are reminded that when he was cruel 
and unjust, it was only when he could not afford to be upright and 
humane ; that he did not employ his power for the gratification of , 
the malignant passions, and, unlike most other usurpers, was an 
economist of injustice and cruelty." 

All this has been frankly admitted ; but it does not touch the 
merits of the case in the one point now under consideration — the 
question of the religious character of Cromwell during the more 
dubious parts of his career. It seems to me more candid, and more 
accordant with probability, to say that whatever his real character 
before that vision of the "weird sisters" which evoked his am- 
bition, or after the approach of death had shown the shadowy 
nature of all ambition, his conduct in the interval can only be 



APPENDIX, 



443 



accounted for by supposing that this "warld had got an ower 
Strang grip o' his heart," and dazzled and often blinded his con- 
science and his better judgment. 

No. y. 

The following is an outline of the sermon preached before 
Cromwell, " On a Particular Faith in Prayer referred to in p. 83. 

The notes from which Calamy copied were so brief, and the MS. 
in some parts so illegible, that he has in some places attempted to 
supply the sense by conjecture. His own remarks he has placed 
between brackets. 

James v. 15, the former part. " And the prayer of faith shall save the 
sick ; and the Lord shall raise him up." 

It is to be inquired how this is to be understood and applied. 

I. How to be understood. Where in the general we must know, it is not 
to be looked upon as an universal maxim, admitting of no restriction or 
limitation : for then prayer might make a man immortal, if in every case 
wherein life were in hazard any could be procured to employ their faith in 
prayer on his behalf. Unless we should say, that wherever the desired 
effect follows not, the faith was wanting, which ought to have been exercised 
in the case. To say that every prayer that has faith in it shall save the sick, 
is false : but that every prayer that has this special faith in it, shall save the 
sick, is true. 

That therefore we may speak the more distinctly, we must under- 
stand, 

I. That there was somewhat in this matter extraordinary, and appro- 
priate to that time. 

II. Somewhat ordinary, and common to all times. We are to distinguish 
the one and the other. 

I. There was somewhat extraordinary in this matter, and appropriate to 
that time : and that both as to the faith to be exercised, and the effect 
thereupon. 

1. As to the faith to be exercised. The prayer of faith shall save the sick : 
that is, in those days, when the state of things did to the Divine Wisdom 
make it necessary that frequent miracles should be wrought for the confir- 
mation of Christianity, faith was necessary to be exerted in prayer, that 
should, according to tenour of the promise made in those times, engage 
omnipotency, in reference to the thing prayed for : the promise then was, 
"Whatsoever ye pray, believing, ye shall receive ; or it shall be done." 

2. As to the Effect, that also was supernatural. 

Ques, But it may be said, What ! universally ? What work might the 
disciples have made in that case ! 

Ans. The Divine power did go forth in two ways. 



444 



APPENDIX. 



1st. In working the faith to be exercised : And, 

2nd. In effecting the thing. So that the matter was always in God's own 
hand. The Spirit of God could be the Author of no vain or imprudent faith, 
or of any thing consequent upon it. 

This faith of miracles was such a fiducial recumbence on the Divine power 
in reference to this or that particular work, as whereby that was by his rule 
eugaged to go forth, in saving the sick. This and common faith differ, in 
respect to the end and the nature of the influence. — Not holy, but physical. 

II. There was here also somewhat that was ordinary. The instance of 
Elias is mentioned, who, v. 17, 18, it is said, "was a man subject to like 
passions as we are, and yet he prayed earnestly that it might not rain ; and 
it rained not on the earth by the space of three years and six months. And 
he prayed again, and the heaven gave rain, and the earth brought forth her 
fruit." There is somewhat from that extraordinary case to be learnt for 
common use, namely, that what the promise says to us now, we ought as con- 
fidently to believe, as they then, what it said to them. 

Therefore take some propositions, concerning the nature and operation of 
the faith to be exercised in such a case, and the way wherein prayer ought 
to be managed and guided, so as that it may be expected to have influence in 
reference thereto. 

1. Prayer is a great and indispensable duty. [There is here some reference 
in the manuscript : but after the utmost search I know not what to make of it.] 

2. That therefore we must conclude, whatsoever tends to render it an im- 
pertinence, must either be false or misapplied. For it is most plainly a great 
part of our duty, and it could not consist either with the wisdom or truth of 
God to have enjoined us such a duty, and have put energy incessant into the 
nature of it in vain. We must therefore resolve what is doubtful by what 
is plain. It is more plain that prayer is duty, and more known than what 
changes the nature of God can admit. 

3. The argument of God's unchangeableness would conclude as well 
against the usefulness of any other duty, that never so directly concerns our 
salvation. 

4. Prayer is to be considered, not only as a means to obtain from God 
what we would have, but as a becoming homage of an intelligent creature. 

5. Whatsoever unchangeableness we can suppose in the nature of God, 
[here there is something added in the manuscript I can make nothing of, 
and then it follows,] and is unreasonable he should lose his right by his 
perfection. 

6. Yet also it is to be considered as a means to obtain good things 
Job. xxi. 15, [by which I suppose it was intended to be intimated, that it 
would be very wicked language in any, to offer to say with those whom Job 
speaks of in the text cited, " What is the Almighty, that we should serve 
him ? and what profit shall we have if we pray unto him ? "] 

7. We are not to think prayer, though never so qualified, hath any proper 
efficacy, to move God this way or that : not so much as instrumental. 

8. It is only a condition upon which it seems good to God to put forth his 
power. 



APPENDIX. 



445 



9. It is a condition that hath not always equally certain connexion with 
the thing we pray for, or other than the promise hath made. 

10. The promises of God are, or must be, understood proportionably to the 
nature of the thing promised : which may be either of such a nature as, etc. 
[Here the sense is incomplete. I suppose that which may be meant, is, that 
the things which God has promised, may either admit or exclude a change. 
And then it is added] make men immortal. [That is, I suppose, as to this 
present life. And then the manuscript goes on.] Things of a variable good- 
ness caunot be the matter of an universal absolute promise, miracles, etc. 

11. Prayer may yet be the prayer of faith that God will do what is best. 
"We should not make light of this more valuable object of faith. Suppose 
two children ; which is the most privileged. [This, I apprehend, refers to 
the case of Esau and Jacob, so often taken notice of in Scripture.] 

12. If God will do the thing, prayer in reference to it is not vain. For 
perhaps he hath wisely and rightly determined that he will not do it but 
upon trust of his being acknowledged. This is a great piece of his 
sovereignty ; his dominion and power over lives. " I kill, and make alive ; " 
q. d., God of every life Universal Cause. 

13. It is very absurd to think, it were vain to pray unless we were certain. 
It contradicts the nature of prayer. For that supposes the thing in power of 
them to whom we pray, and implies a referring it to their pleasure. 

14. It must be submitted to him to judge what is most honourable for 
himself. It argues base thoughts of the invisible world, to think, etc., 
[that is, I suppose, to think we should be able to keep people from thence at 
our pleasure.] 

15. What if he had said, Pray not, [I take this to be designed for an inti- 
mation, that had intercourse between an all-sufficient God and us, by prayer, 
been prohibited, we should have been left in a very helpless and hopeless, 
miserable and destitute condition.] 

No. VI. 

The following letter of Howe's I found amongst the MSS. in the 
Ayscough Catalogue, British Museum. As it has no date, and as 
the circumstances and the parties alluded to are quite unknown, I 
thought it better to insert it in the Appendix than in the body of 
the work. 

" For the Rev. Mr. Thomas Whitaker, at Leeds, Yorkshire. 
"Worthy Sir, 

" I deferred writing back to yours, having, before I received it, made 
it my request to friends at Newcastle, that they would return me copies of 
what I wrote thither, or my own again ; whereof the haste wherein I wrote 
allowed me not to transcribe any. I hoped they would have granted that 
request, which had made my writing back to you easier, and, perhaps, 
clearer. I wish you could obtain from them a sight of what I wrote, 



446 



APPENDIX. 



whereby you would collect what I can now but summarily tell you, that I am 
very sure I did write nothing tending to animate Mr. B r . to the course of 
dividing or disturbing that church of Christ : which he was only invited and 
(by the common Christian rule) obliged to prove. 

"It being acknowledged to me, by some who are now grieved at his 
spirit and conduct, that they had pressed him to be ordained, [I said] I 
knew not to what office in the church they could mean he should be ordained, 
to which the power of dispensing the seals of the covenant belonged not : 
that even constant feeding of the flock by office was pastoral work : that I 
knew no reason why the name of co-pastor should be scrupled, whereof 
the Christian church (even primitive, as well as of later time) afforded 
frequent instances : that yet we were too apt to amuse ourselves and one 
another about names, when about the tilings they most truly signify it was 
less possible to disagree : that yet the word co-pastors could by no means 
always signify equal pastors : that though the office was the same, and could 
not be unequal to itself, yet in the acts and exercise of that office, there 
might be, and, in some cases, ought to be great inequality. That in this case, 
as much as any, there ought to be inequality, when the peace, satisfaction, and 
consequent edification of the church depended thereon : that some yielding 
to Mr. B r . was better than a rupture : but yet, if his terms were grossly un- 
reasonable, or opposite to the more general [sense] of the church, and he 
were more for a breach than [healing], I reckoned such an affectation of 
* * * * did so slur his character, and was so disagreeable to a 
gospel minister, that I could not advise they should close with him on any 
terms ; and that his absence was much more desirable. I pray God direct 
and heal you. 

" Dear Sir, 

" Your very respectful Brother in Christ, 

"John Howe." 

I have also copied from the MSS. in Dr. Williams's Library, 
a long and very tedions letter, the whole of which, for the 
following reasons, I do not think it worth while to insert. 
Baxter, it is well known, wrote a recommendatory preface to 
the "Blessedness of the Bighteous." Before he allowed it 
to appear, he wrote to Howe for a more full explication of his 
views on certain points connected with the economy of grace, on 
which he had touched in the first part of his work. As the senti- 
ments which Howe's reply contains may be found in the work 
itself, (indeed, he proposes that they should be appended to the 
preface, from which they were probably transposed into the body 
of the work in subsequent editions,) and as the letter itself was 



APPENDIX. 



447 



written in great haste, and is in Howe's worst style, I shall sup- 
press by far the greater part of it ; merely" inserting the few 
paragraphs which tend to throw any light on his personal history, 
or on his connexion with Baxter at this period. 

"Most dear and Reverend Sir, 

" It is a renewed argument of your very condescending spirit, that 
you yet detain so kind a remembrance of one, "who am conscious to myself 
never to have deserved any place in your friendship. Nor could you have 
expressed that undeserved friendly respect by any more acceptable or 
endearing medium, than in the endeavour of your late letter, that I niay not 
in anything wrong the truth or the church of God ; which I am the more 
concerned to be tender of, by how much I am less capable of doing unto 
either any real or considerable service. I did, indeed, some months since, 
intimate to my friend, Mr. Fairclough, then in the city, (and by whom 1 
treated with Mr. Thompson, ) my hope, that if he desired it, for the better 
sale of my book, you might be procured to recommend the subject and 
design of it : and promised upon that supposition to write to you for that 
purpose. But having since received a letter from Mr. Thompson, wherein he 
said nothing of it, I had laid aside these thoughts, judging the affectation of 
such a testimony, on my account, ought rather to be checked and suppressed 
than complied with. Since I now find he hath applied himself to you, and 
that you are pleased to discover an mclination to that charitable office, 
I shall accept it from you with gratitude, hoping it may induce some to the 
reading of it with the better preconceived opinion, and so with more 
advantage. 

" Your letter finds me in a journey, whence I cannot very speedily return 
to my study, or have the opportunity of viewing what I wrote in the passage 
you refer to. I remember not my words, but am sure those of Mr. Gilbert, 
(though if he be the same, that wrote the animadversions on Dr. Owen's 
' Diatribe de Justif; Dei vindicate I esteem him a man of much worth,) 
that no sins of the regenerate incur the guilt of eternal punishment, and 
that Christ died only to prevent that guilt, not to pardon it actually, is 
very alien to my settled formed judgment. 

********* 
"This is a hasty account of my thoughts in this matter, as indeed that 
was in my book ; for I wrote them upon former apprehensions having here- 
tofore read ' Grot, de Satis/. with most of what you have published on any 
such subject, and divers others, but not for ten years before ; and had scarce 
any such book at hand, nor had the opportunity of consulting any such 
at that time. 

" If there be any difference in my apprehensions from yoiirs, I conceive it is 
very little momentous, and that the enclosed paper subjoined to my preface, 
may serve to clear my meaning. I tender you my affectionate thanks for 



448 



APPENDIX. 



this friendly advertisement, and your further offered assistance for promoting 
the success of that poor labour of, Sir, 

" Your obliged, though very unworthy fellow-servant 

In the work of Christ, 

"Johis Howe." 

"Plymouth, June 2, 1668." 

No. VII. 

The following unpublished letter of Howe, written in reply to 
some question of "Church order," propounded to him by a meeting 
of ministers in the North of England, has been forwarded to me 
by the Rev. James Turner, of Knutsford, who copied it from a 
book in the possession of a gentleman in that town. The pre- 
amble to the letter is not without interest, as illustrating . in some 
measure the proceedings of the Nonconformist "synods" of those 
times. 

"The first meeting of ministers was in March, 1690-1, at Macclesfield. 
Dr. Eaton began with prayer, afterwards the case relating to the gesture to 
be used by the minister in the administration of the Lord's Supper was 
debated, there being present, Mr. Sam. Angier, Dr. Eaton, Eliezer Birch, 
Thos. Kinaston, Jno. Byrom, — Stringer, Thos. Irlam, Jn. Sidebottom, Gr. 
Jones. Mr. Angier concluded, and another meeting was appointed to be at 
Lawrence Downs' s, April ye 14, 1691. 

" Then the case above-mentioned being before undetermined, was reas- 
sumed, and Mr. Howe's letter, in the name of the London ministers relating 
to that affair, read and approved of, and recommended to the congregation at 
Macclesfield, as expedient to settle the matter, a copy of which here 
f olloweth : — 

" 'Sir, 

" ' A case was propounded this day among divers ministers which I 
was (privately) told was yours, viz., that some of your society scrupled to 
receive the Lord's Supper, otherwise than as having the elements delivered 
immediately to them by your own hand. 

" ' Two things in reference hereto agreed unanimously — 
"'1. That they might very lawfully and fittly passe from hand to hand, 
which the rule forbids not ; and (if we may judge by parity of reason) 
seems rather to favour ; and herein the constant practice of the Church of 
Scotland hath long concurred, and still doth. 

"'2. However, that it being a matter of indifferency, you ought to 
offend none herein, nor impose a thing not determined expressly by rule as 
a condition of Church communion, and therefore to let such as desire it 
from your own hand be placed near you (successively if not altogether, as it is 
the manner in Holland to fill the table successively). This may be done 
with you if one table will not receive at once all that are unsatisfied to 



APPENDIX. 



449 



receive otherwise : That so none may be deprived of so needful a privilege 
needlessly, either through their own weakness or the want of that indul- 
gence thereto which their case may require, and in this advice the 
brethren that were consulted formerly of both persuasions, Presbyterial and 
Congregational, (though now there is no such distinction with us,) were most 
unanimous, and it was left to be communicated to you by 
" 'Your affectionate Brother 

" ' and fellow Servant, 

" 'London, April 6, 1691.' " " 'John Howe. 

"Afterwards the agreement of the London ministers was read over, and 
ordered to be read again the next meeting. " 

The following brief letters, hitherto unpublished, have been 
procured from the Bodleian Library, through the courtesy of the 
Librarian, Mr. H. O. Coxe. The allusions in them are not very 
intelligible. 

"Sir, 

"I have sent you inclosed the receipt you desired, and have no more 
(in so much haste) to add, but to desire you to tender my most humble duty 
and service to my honoured Lord and the excellent Lady Russell, and 
represent me to the worthy gentlemen as their humble servant, not omitting 
my hearty salutations to Mr. Bingley, with my other friends, whom I gave 
so much trouble to of late, among whom you had no little share, as you 
ought and have, of the cordial thanks of, 
"Worthy Sir, 

" Your obliged affectionate servant, 
"London, May 26, '84." "J. Howe." 

(No address.) 

"Reverend and worthy Sir, 

' ' I hope you were going on some other account that way, when you 
called at my house ; otherwise, you had not balked both the days on which 
I have often told you I am never absent (unless on some very extraordinary 
account), Thursday and Saturday. Hcee per jocum. But to be serious. 
The person I recommended for Preston will not be the man. As for Mr. 
Lorain, if you can procure my Lord Stamford's recommendation of him to 
the Mayor of Preston (into whose hands with some other, Sir Charles 
Hoghton hath devolved the power of electing), it is likely to signify much. 
But herein no mention must be made of Sir Charles, nor of 

" Your affectionate humble servant, 
"Feb. 23, Iff "John Howe. 

"If my Lord of Stamford will be prevailed with, my Lord Duke's 
own name will carry a great weight, if his Grace think fit to add it. 

(Endorsed) " For the Rev. Mr. Thornton, Chaplain to his Grace the Duke 
of Bedford, Bedford House, in the Strand." 



450 



APPENDIX. 



No. Yin. 

Dedications and Prefaces of Howe not contained in any edition 
of his Works. 

Preface to the Funeral Sermon for the Rev. Henry Newcome, 
of Manchester, by John Chorlton. 

"To the Christian Reader, especially such as lived under the 
excellent Mr. Newcome's most fruitful ministry. 

"Two things come under present consideration — the following discourse, 
and the occasion of it. There is nothing to make the former unacceptable, 
but the latter. You have, here, a most sublime portion of Scripture very 
aptly explained, and usefully applied, so as to minister light and warmth to 
them that read. That only in the whole which is grievous is, that we are 
told worthy Mr. Newcome is dead ! This is a gloomy theme, and is only 
capable of a more lightsome, pleasant aspect, from the brightness of the 
firmament, and the lustre of the stars, into which so wise and powerful 
preachers of the glorious gospel are at length transformed, as this discourse 
excellently shows. In the meantime, this is a loss which few can estimate, 
though they that suffer it are very many. It may be truly said of such a 
man, as unknown, and yet well known. They that knew him best, could 
know but a small part of his true and great worth, and might always 
apprehend, when they knew most of him, there was still much more that 
they knew not ; his most sincere and inartifical humility, still drawing a veil 
over his other excellencies, which it hid and adorned at once ; so as the 
appetite of knowing more, must always meet with a check, and an incitation 
at the same time. There was in him a large stock of solid learning and 
knowledge, always ready for use ; for ostentation, never. Conscience the 
most strict, and steady to itself, and the remotest from censoriousness of 
other men. Eloquence without any labour of his own, not imitable by the 
greatest labour of another. Oh, the strange way he had of insinuating and 
winding himself into his hearers' bosoms ! I have sometimes heard him 
when the only thing to be regretted was, that the sermon must so soon be at 
an end. Conversation, so facetious and instructive together, that they who 
enjoyed it, if they were capable of improving it, could scarce tell whether 
they went away from him more edified or delighted. He was a burning and 
a shining light. Manchester, Manchester ! that ancient, famed seat of 
religion and profession, may Capernaum's doom never be thine ! May thy 
Heyrick, Hollingworth, Newcome, and thy neighbours, Angier, Harrison, 
and divers more, never be witnesses against thee ! They are dead ! ' And 
all flesh is grass, and the word of the Lord endureth for ever,' even that 
word of the gospel which hath by them been presented to you. It never 
dies. And may it still abide with you, and in you. labour to hold forth 
the word of life, that such as have laboured among you, 'may rejoice in the 
day of Christ, that they have not run in vain, nor laboured in vain. ' Let it 



APPENDIX. 



451 



appear you are the ' epistles of Christ ministered by them, to be known and 
read of all men ;' so what there appeared of Christ in them will, as in 
another edition, be seen in you. And thus will the memory of this your 
last deceased pastor be best preserved among you, when you shall every one 
discern Mr. Newcome still, in each other's savoury speech, pleasant and com- 
posed looks, becoming behaviour, and regular well-ordered conversation. 
This will make the love of him live still in your hearts, which will no doubt 
appear, and be exercised towards any of his, you have yet surviving among 
you, to whom you may show kindness for his sake. Thus you may let the 
world know your love to him did not die with him, nor was buried in his 
grave. You will by real proofs testify your value of him whose circum- 
stances at last gave real proof that he sought not yours, but you. I pray God 
a double portion of Elijah's spirit may rest upon your remaining Elisha. 

" And am 

' 5 Yours in our common Lord, 

"J. Howe." 

It lias been stated in the narrative, that after Howe had signed 
the unwise attestation to the genuineness of Dr. Crisp's pos- 
thumous sermons, he promised Baxter that he would append his 
name to a recommendatory preface to Flavel's " Blow at the Root ; 
or, the Causes and Cure of Mental Errors." This he did accord- 
ingly, in conjunction with six other gentlemen who had signed the 
attestation to Dr. Crisp's Sermons. His own name stands first. I 
have little doubt that he drew up the " Preface." I have no doubt, 
also, that he drew up the " Paper" on the same subject, which he 
tells us was "printed soon after the publication of Dr. Crisp's 
works;" and from which the writer of the Preface has largely 
cited. The internal evidence — the peculiarities of the style — and 
the spirit which pervades these compositions — all favour the sup- 
position that Howe was the author. Still, as I cannot be certain 
of the fact, and as the Preface with the above extracts is somewhat 
lengthy, I have thought it better to omit it. 

I shall close the volume with the following 

DEDICATION PREFIXED TO THE THIRD VOLUME OF 
DR. MANTON'S WORKS: 
"To the High and Mighty Prince William, by the Grace of God King of 
England, France, and Ireland, etc. 
" May it please your Majesty, 
" This relic of the worthy deceased author was long since intended, when 
you were at a greater distance, to be sent abroad under the patronage of your 
great name. His own name indeed hath long been, and still continues, so 



452 



APPENDIX. 



bright and fragrant in England, that your Majesty's condescending goodness 
will count it no indignity to yours, to impart some of its more diffused 
beams and odours to it. However, if what there was of presumption in that 
first intention can be pardoned, no reason can be apprehended of altering it 
upon your nearer and most happy approach unto us. 

"The kind design and blessed effect whereof (compared with the scope 
and design of this excellent work) do much the more urgently invite to it. 
Eor as you come to us with the compassionate design of a deliverer and 
the wonderful blessing of Heaven hath rendered you also a victor 
and a successful deliverer; the design of this book is to represent that 
faith, which is the peculiar and most appropriate principle of what is (like 
your own) the most glorious of all victories. You have overcome, not by the 
power of your arms, but by the sound of your name, and by your goodness 
and kindness, which so effectually first conquered minds, as to leave you no 
oppox-tunity of using the other more harsh and rugged means of conquest. 
Yea, and your success is owing to a greater name than yours ; our case, and 
the truth of the thing, allow and oblige us in a low and humble subordination 
to apply those sacred words, 'Blessed is he that cometh to us in the name of 
the Lord.' The power of which glorious name is wont to be exerted according 
as a trust is placed in it. We acknowledge and adore a most conspicuous 
Divine presence with you in this undertaking of yours, which is not other- 
wise to be engaged than by that faith, of which the apostle and this author 
do here treat. This faith, we are elsewhere told, overcomes this world ; and 
are told here in what way, — by representing another, with the invisible Lord 
of both worlds ; being the substance of what we hope for, and the evidence 
of what we see not, and whereby we see Him who is invisible. This world is 
not otherwise to be conquered than as it is an enemy ; it is an enemy by the 
vanities, lusts, and impurities of it. That faith which foresees the end of this 
world ; which beholds it as a vanishing thing, passing away with all the lust of 
it ; which looks through all time, and contemplates all the affairs and events 
of this temporary state, as under the conduct and management of an all- wise 
and almighty invisible Ruler ; which penetrates into eternity, and discovers 
another world and state of things which shall be unchangeable and of ever- 
lasting permanency, and therein beholds the same invisible glorious Lord, as 
a most gracious and bountiful rewarder of such as serve and obey him with 
sincere fidelity in this state of trial and temptation here on earth ; such a 
faith cannot but be victorious over the lusts, vanities, impurities, and 
sensualities of this present evil world. Such a faith working by love to 
God, and good men, and all mankind, and being thereupon fruitful in the 
good works of piety, sobriety, righteousness, and charity, will be the great 
reformer of the world, conquer its malignity, reduce its disorders, and infer 
an universal harmony and peace. 

"Even among us, the noblest part of your Majesty's conquest is yet 
behind. It cannot but have been observed, that for many years by-past, a 
design hath been industriously driven, that we might be made papists, to 
make us slaves ; and for the enslaving us, to debauch us, and plunge us 
into all manner of sensuality ; from a true apprehension, that brute and slave 



APPENDIX. 



453 



are nearest akin, and that there is a sort of men so vile and abject, (as the 
ingenious expression of a great man among the Romans once was) quos non 
decet esse nisi servos, to whom liberty were an indecency; and who should be 
treated imbecomingly, if they were not made slaves ; that we should be fit 
to serve the lusts and humours of any other man, when once we become 
servile to our own. Aud next, that the religion might easily be wrested 
away from us, which was become so weak and impotent as not to be able to 
govern us : and that if humanity were eradicated, the principles and 
privileges that belong to our nature torn from us, easy work woidd be made 
with our Christianity and religion. What hath been effected among us by 
so laboured a design, through a long tract of time, is before you as the 
matter of your remaining victory ; which as on our part it will be the more 
difficult, where the pernicious humour is inveterate ; so your Majesty's part 
herein will be most easy, your great example being, under the supreme 
power, the mover, the potent engine which is to effect the hoped redress ; 
and your more principal contribution hereunto consisting but in being your- 
self, in expressing the virtue, prudence, goodness, and piety, which God hath 
wrought in your temper. The design of saying this is not flattery, but 
excitation. Give me leave to lay before your Majesty somewhat that occurs 
in a book written twenty-seven years ago, not by way of prophecy, but 
probable conjecture of the way wherein a blessed state of things in these 
parts of the world is likely to be brought about. 

" 'God will stir up some happy king or governor in some country of 
Christendom, endued with wisdom and consideration, who shall discern the 
true nature of godliness and Christianity, and the necessity and excellency 
of serious religion, and shall place his honour and felicity in pleasing God 
and doing good, and attaining everlasting happiness ; and shall subject all 
worldly respects unto these high and glorious ends ; shall know that 
godliness and justice have the most precious name on earth, and prepare for 
the most glorious reward in heaven, ' etc. 

" With how great hopes and joy must it fill every upright heart, daily (as 
they do) to behold in your Majesty and in your Royal Consort (whom a 
Divine hand hath so happily placed with you on the same throne) the same 
lively characters of this exemplified idea ! It cannot but inspire us with 
such pleasant thoughts, that winter is well-nigh gone, and the time of 
singing of birds approaches ; the night is far spent, and the day is at hand, a 
bright and glorious morning triumphs over the darkness of a foul tem- 
pestuous night ; the sober serious age now commences, when sensuality, 
falsehood, cruelty, oppression, the contempt of God and religion, are going 
out of fashion ; to be a noted debauchee, of a vicious life and dishonest 
mind, capable of being swayed to serve ill purposes without hesitation, will 
no longer be thought a man's praise or a qualification for trusts. It shall 
be no disreputable thing to profess the fear of God, and the belief of a life to 
come. A scenical unserious religion, a spurious adulterated Christianity, 
made up of doctrines repugnant to the sacred oracles, to sound reason, and 
even to common sense, with idolatrous and ludicrous formalities, and which 
hate the light, shall vanish before it. There shall be no more strife about 



454 



APPENDIX. 



unnecessary circumstances ; grave decencies in the worship of God, that 
shall be self-recommending and command a veneration in every conscience, 
shall take place. There shall be no contention amongst Christians, but who 
shall most honour God and our Redeemer, do most good in the world, and 
most entirely love, and effectually befriend and serve one another ; which 
are all things most connatural to that vivid, realizing, victorious faith here 
treated of. 

"Nor are other victories alien to it over the armed powers of God's 
visible enemies in the world, such as he may yet call your Majesty with 
glorious success to encounter in his name, and for the sake of it. In some 
following verses of this chapter (wherein the line of the apostle's discourse 
went beyond that of this worthy author's life) this is represented as the 
powerful instrument which those great heroes employed in their high 
achievements of 4 subduing kingdoms, working righteousness, (or executing 
God's just revenges upon his unyielding enemies) obtaining promises, 
stopping the mouths of lions, quenching the violence of fire, escaping the 
edge of the sword, whereby out of weakness they were made strong, waxed 
valiant in fight, turned to flight the armies of the aliens ; ' — by this faith, 
they in the prophet's lofty style, 1 as it were ' bathed their sword in 
heaven,' gave it a celestial tincture, made it resistless and penetrating. 
This is the true way, wherein (according to the divinest philosophy) the 
spirit of a man may draw into consent with itself the universal almighty 
Spirit. And if the glorious Lord of Hosts shall assign to your Majesty a 
farther part in the employments of this noble kind, may he gird you with 
might unto the battle ; may your bow abide in strength, and the arms of 
' your hands be made strong by the hands of the mighty God of Jacob,' even 
by the God of your fathers, who shall help you, and by the Almighty who 
shall bless you ; and may he most abundantly bless you ' with blessings of 
heaven above, blessings of the deep that lyeth under, blessings of the breasts 
and of the womb.' May he cover your head in fight, and crown it with 
victory and glory, and grant you to know, by use and trial, the power 
of that faith, in all its operations, which unites God with man, and can 
render, in a true and sober sense, and to all his own purposes, a human 
arm omnipotent. Which is the serious prayer of, 

" Your Majesty's most devoted 

"And most humble Servant and Subject, 

"Johk Howe." 

1 Isa. xxxiv. 5. 



THE END. 



London : Benjamin Pardon, Printer, Paternoster Row. 



A NEW EDITION 

OF THE 

WOEKS OF JOHN HOWE, 

Printed on fine paper in Demy Svo. 



This Edition includes the " Life" by Mr. Henry Rogers, 
revised by the Author. The same gentleman, who was long 
impressed with the conviction that the uncouthness of many 
parts of Howe's writings might be at least considerably 
diminished, and his pages made more readable, by a careful 
revision of the punctuation (which was very faulty in the 
early editions, and has much fluctuated in the later), con- 
sented to attempt its revision throughout, and, in order to 
secure a correct text, compared the printer's proofs with 
editions of the several works published in Howe's lifetime. 
Beyond the changes of punctuation, however, and the adop- 
tion of modern forms of orthography, etc., no alterations 
whatever have been made ; one of the objects of the Editor 
being to insure the utmost possible accuracy in the text. A 
preface to the first volume of the " Works," by Mr. Rogers^ 
more fully explains the nature and extent of the improve- 
ments attempted in this Edition. 

It is not probable that the " Society" would have engaged 
in an undertaking of this magnitude had there been, when 
they entered upon it, any immediate prospect of its being 
prosecuted by private enterprise. But the failure of one 
laudable attempt (owing to causes which had nothing to do 
with any doubts of the expediency of the object itself) made 



A New Edition of the Works of John Ho ice. 



it very uncertain whether any new effort would be made ; 
and there being a strong desire in many to see the works of 
J ohn Howe in a form and type worthy of him, the Society 
thought they would be conferring a boon on the religious 
public generally, but especially on Christian ministers of 
every name, by preparing the present Edition for the press. 
They may add, that it is at a price which, considering the 
paper, style of printings etc., every reader will admit to be 
very cheap. 

The Society for the present content themselves with print- 
ing only those works which Howe himself published, and 
prepared for the press, i. e. all that is contained in Calamy's 
two folio volumes. Whether they shall afterwards extend 
the issue to what are generally called Howe's " posthumous 
works" — which are exceedingly unequal, most of them in- 
ferior in value, and some of them mere reports of his Sermons 
published many years after his death — will depend entirely 
on whether the public shall express a desire to have them. 
If that should be the case, the present issue, which is 
confined to six volumes (exclusive of the Life), may be 
extended. 

Each volume consists of from 460 to 510 pages on the 
average, price 5s. 



THE RELIGIOUS TRACT SOCIETY : 
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and 164, Piccadilly. 
May be had of the Booksellers. 



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